


Finding the Way Back

by LeighKelly



Series: Annie-verse [1]
Category: Glee
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F, Friendship, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Minor Character Death, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Romance, Santana's POV
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-15
Updated: 2015-09-15
Packaged: 2018-04-20 23:05:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 71
Words: 211,590
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4805561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeighKelly/pseuds/LeighKelly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Six years have passed since Santana came to New York. Dealing with the aftermath of a terrible event, she is spiraling down a dark road. When Brittany encounters her own tragedy in Lima and finds herself with nowhere else to go, she ends up in New York. Can these two damaged hearts find their way back together? And how much can love overcome?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Sam Is Dead

I rolled over in my bed, regretting the copious amount of tequila I had consumed the night before, which was now causing my head to feel like someone was banging a hammer against it. Even the pillow over my ears couldn't stop the banging and I reached haphazardly towards the nightstand for a bottle of aspirin. The clock read 7:12 am, and that's when I realized that the sound was not coming from my head, someone was at my door at this ungodly hour.

Wrapping a blanket around myself, and shielding my eyes from the painful light, I padded through the apartment to the door, all the while cursing the beast who woke me from my drunken slumber. Without bothering to look through the peephole, I swung open the door and snarled at the two bow tie clad men behind it. Bow ties. Fucking bow ties before the sun had fully risen.

"Wonder twins, what the hell are you doing here?"

"Can we come in?" Kurt asked, almost pushing past me.

"No, I want to stand in the hallway naked and be provoked by your bow ties. Just get inside. One of you make me some coffee if you insist on waking me at this hour."

"Santana, are you still drunk?" Blaine accused.

"Fuck if I know. I'm still sleeping and pretending one of you has made me a cup of coffee."

"Here." Kurt shoved his own coffee at me. "Just drink this. We need to talk to you."

"Oh, I thought you were just here for my hospitality. Silly me. Speak."

The gays eyed each other uneasily, each imploring the other to speak. I was ready to bash their heads together, let them get a taste of my own throbbing feeling when Blaine finally opened his mouth.

"Sam is dead."

_Sam is dead? Sam is dead._  That can't even be possible. My wishes never come true, and besides, I didn't wish him dead, so much as to never have existed. Kurt and Blaine both had red ringed eyes, this wasn't some kind of joke. But still, Sam and I hadn't spoken in six years, not since our musical duel over Britt which ended with her choosing him and me living with Kurt and Berry in their creepy musical theater themed apartment. Why was this some urgent news that I needed to be woken at the ass crack of dawn for?

"And..." I pierced Blaine with my stare.

"Well, we are going to Lima. Like now. Put some clothes on."

"I'm sorry, we? There is no way in hell I'm going to Lima for some cracked out, trout convention funeral. Sam has been dead to me since 2012, news flash, this doesn't impact my life."

"Whoa, Santana, that's the tequila talking." Kurt admonished.

"He was your friend. And more important than that, we, and you especially, need to be there for Brittany."

"It's not happening. I haven't spoken to Brittany in three years, I think she will manage without me. The rest of you can go to Lima and sing Sarah McLachlan songs and pretend you're all still besties, but I'm staying here."

"Could you be any more selfish right now? Sam is dead. Did you need me to repeat that? I know you've had a rough few years, but you need to pull yourself together. God, take a look at yourself, you're a mess." Kurt glared at me.

"Get out. Now." I shoved the two out and slammed the door.

Gulping down the rest of the coffee, I pulled a new bottle of tequila out of the cabinet and took two shots. Irish funeral, right? My fury was momentarily abated and I sat down on the couch to collect myself. Go to Lima and comfort Brittany, right. Those two were as dumb as they look. Sure, it was sad that Sam was dead. But it was sad for the people who were in his life, not the one person who never let go of her hate for him. They all know me better than that, I'm no hypocrite, and going there would be the most hypocritical thing I'd ever done.

It was nearly 2:00 when I woke up again, after having passed out on the couch. I reached for the phone, bracing myself for the influx of messages. Seventeen texts from Rachel, demanding I reconsider, two from Kurt, calling me selfish again, and one full of sappy bullshit from Finn. Too late guys, see you when I see you.

I looked around my apartment, a decent size for Gramercy Park, with the furniture I paid Kurt to procure after hearing him complain about my Ikea futon for the last time. Things were finally looking up for me. I'd turned my demons into money (and a hell of a lot of it) by writing music, why was I going to turn old stones?

**Five Days Later:**

The hot water in the shower rained down on me as I halfheartedly hummed the new song I was working on, pretending to care that I had a deadline to make. I was crying, I'd spent the better half of the week crying or drunk, mostly both. This Sam thing was hitting me in a way I hadn't expected, and I was worried sick about Britt. No one told me how he died, and I didn't ask. Actually, I couldn't ask, since my phone had basically been radio silenced since I decided not to go back to Lima. Some friends I had.

"Santana!" shrieked the most obnoxious voice in the world.

I flung open the shower curtain to find a very uncomfortable looking Rachel Berry standing in my bathroom.

"God Berry, if you wanted to see me naked, you could have just asked. But I didn't strike you for that type."

"Please..." She stammered, throwing a towel at me. "Get dressed."

"Oh I'm so sorry you don't want to see me naked after walking in on me in the shower."

"Cut it out Santana, we need to talk."

Ten minutes later, I was in my pajamas standing at the kitchen counter pouring myself a glass of wine with Rachel staring at me.

"Wine?" I asked.

"No, I'm good. Pretty sure you'll drink enough for the both of us." She muttered.

"What was that, Berry?"

"Nothing."

"That's what I thought. Now why are you here? I assumed I was voted off the island after I made a decision that you all didn't like."

"Santana." Rachel sighed. "Like it or not, you're like my sister. You stuck by me during a lot of screwed up stuff, and I'm here because I'm worried about you. Pissed, but also worried."

I swallowed my wine quickly and poured another glass. Rachel hadn't changed much since high school. She was still preachy and borderline intolerable, a Tony award hadn't changed that. But she was the closest thing I had to family in New York, so I put up with it in exchange for the moments where I could actually stomach being around her. Plus, she had been there for me when I needed her most, so she wasn't a total waste of space in my life.

"I'm fine. Why aren't you people having a Britt-tervention? Her boyfriend is the one who died."

"And you're the one who hasn't even asked how. Or asked how Brittany is. For someone who's spent the past six years in love with her, you'd think you would care just a little. You should have been there."

"Well I wasn't, but I'll ask your stupid questions. How did Sam die? How is Brittany? Are you happy?" I barked.

"Car accident. Brittany is dealing. She was in the car too, you know. She walked away with a couple of fractured ribs, then went and buried Sam."

I struggled to keep my breathing even.  _Britt was in the car too._  She could have died. Really, I didn't want to care. But it was Brittany, the one person I would always love. The best person I'd ever known. Rachel's eyes were trained on me, and I avoided blinking so the tears wouldn't spill. Grabbing the wine bottle, I added more to my glass and drew in a large gulp. Instinctively, Rachel grabbed the bottle.

"Enough, Santana. I've watched you drown yourself for the past three years. Just. Stop."

"Yes mother Rachel. God. Why can't you just let things be? Not everyone has the charmed life you do. Not all of us can ease our menial pain by snuggling up with our freakishly large boyfriends and pretending to be a tortured soul on stage."

That did it. Rachel picked up her bag and walked out the door, still holding my bottle of wine.

"When you're ready to get some help, call me." She yelled.


	2. Why Did You Bring Me Here?

It had been over a month since I'd heard from Rachel and the others, but I had caught Blaine stalking outside of my building like some kind of bow tie killer a week earlier. Knowing them, he was probably just a part of some weird schedule of people who wouldn't speak to me, but also couldn't live with the guilt if I turned up dead. A bunch of thin-skinned weirdos, that's what they were.

Most of my time had been spent thinking about poor sweet Brittany and how she was dealing with everything. I didn't want to, but I really did still love her. On multiple occasions, I'd picked up the phone to call her, but stared instead at her number for hours before putting it back down. Too much time had passed, and everything we had once shared was water under the bridge. Once again biting back my tears, I climbed the window to the fire escape as my phone started to ring.

"I'm not going to jump Rachel. Call off your dogs and leave me alone."

"What are you talking about?"

"I know one of you just saw my climb out onto the fire escape. And that's why you're calling me."

"Actually, I'm not. And I have no idea what you're talking about. I'm calling you to ask you to come over. I need to talk to you."

"No way." I snapped. "I'm not coming to Brooklyn for one of your wanky musical interventions. Great to hear from you though, I  _really_  missed these heart to hearts."

"You know why I didn't call. I tried to help you, and you wanted nothing to do with it. But it's important, I need you to come here now. I'll send Dmitri."

Rachel was sending her driver to pick me up? Something was definitely up. I agreed, only because I knew Dmitri would make some kind of scene if I didn't, and the last thing I wanted was some crazed Russian guy screaming in the lobby of my building. While pulling back my hair, I took a shot of tequila and then lit a cigarette. Forty five minutes later, I was on my way to Rachel and Finn's brownstone in Park Slope, picturing the assembled mass of interveners that Rachel had probably gathered. Dmitri opened the door to the building and sure enough, there were Kurt and Blaine sitting at the table beside Finn.

"Rachel is in the bedroom, she'll be out in a minute." Finn explained.

"Don't bother, I'm leaving. This is not going to be some kind of bash-Santana fest. Later."

I turned to walk out the door, and Rachel grabbed my arm. My body went rigid and my blood started rushing in my ears.

"Don't. Touch. Me." I yelped.

"Santana, I'm sorry. But you can't go. This isn't about you right now, I promise. I need you help?"

"What, you need another person to play charades or something? I can't even stomach any of you anymore." I hissed. "I'm out of here."

Finn stepped between me and the door, and I braced myself for what was coming. Chills ran down my spine as I heard the crying coming from the bedroom. They didn't. They  _wouldn't._  That was a sound I'd know anywhere, a sound that after all of these years could still manage to make my already shattered heart break even further.

"No. No. You didn't call me here for this. I  _can't_."

Then, the door to the bedroom cracked open and peering out from behind it were a set of blue eyes that penetrated my soul. The world felt like it was falling out from under my feet, and I grabbed Finn's arm to steady myself. This wasn't fair, none of it. I shouldn't have been dragged into this, for my sake and for her's.

"You can. Santana, she won't stop crying. None of us can even figure out what's going on, and you always had a way with her. Please." Rachel begged.

"That was years ago.  _Nothing_  is the same now. Why can't any of you just let things die? It's like my life is part of one of the plays you and Kurt used to put on. Santana has nothing left to lose, let's just throw some more shit at her, see what she can take? Then we will sing songs about it! Get your own life, Rachel!"

Rachel winced, and Finn glared at me. I was actually surprised that one of the Bobbsey Twins didn't get involved. I looked again to the bedroom, drawn by some inexplicable force and hated myself for it. Obviously, no one there understood what it was like to need one person to help you, and have them stop acknowledging your existence at that very moment. If I turned away, I'd be doing the same thing to Britt that she did to me.

"Please." Brittany squeaked from the doorway. " _Please_."

Trapped. I was trapped. All I wanted to do was wrap my arms around Britt and take away whatever was hurting her. But I had to be rational, I couldn't let her tear my guard down like she always did. Rachel and Kurt could say what they wanted, but Brittany wasn't there when  _I_  needed her either. I'd go to her, see if I could get some answers out of her, but she was their problem after that. I didn't go to Lima for a reason, and I'd be damned if I let Lima come to New York. Giving Rachel a glacial stare, I walked into the bedroom and shut the door.

"Santana." Brittany touched my hand, and I pulled it away like I'd been burned. "

"Don't. I'm sorry about Sam, Britt, but I can't comfort you. I'll listen, but that's all."

The room was so quiet that I heard her swallow. Then, before I could react, she started dry heaving from her sobs. Burying my head in my hands, I listened, waiting for her to stop, hoping for the strength to survive the night. I wrenched my hands together to keep from holding one out to her, to stop myself from rubbing her back and telling her it would be okay. It wasn't okay.  _Nothing_  was okay.

"Why are you here?" I demanded.

"Because it's the only place I have left to go. There hasn't been anything left for me in Lima for a long time."

"Sam died two months ago. That's hardly a long time."

"There was nothing for me there long before he was gone." Britt sniffled.

"What are you talking about?" I could feel the rage intensifying within me.

"It was over with Sam three years ago, at least for me. But I stayed, because it hurt less than to leave. And then I ended it for real the night he died. Guess I picked the wrong time to tell him, and now it's my fault he's dead."

_It was over with them before he died?_  Why did I even care? And why was that even a priority on my mind when Britt was hysterical thinking its her fault that Sam died? If my life wasn't already hell, I would have thought there was a special place there for me. It was right then that I made the biggest mistake I'd made in a long time, I looked up from my hands and straight into Brittany's eyes. I fought the bile rising in my throat as a whole mess of emotions swept over me.

"What are you talking about Brittany? It's not your fault. There was a car accident. You could have died too."

"The accident. I was my fault. I broke up with Sam, and finally told him the truth, yelled at him, and hated him so much in that a moment. He was angry and driving too fast when he clipped the turn and flipped the car. God, I'm so stupid. Why did I tell him when he was driving?" She wailed.

"You didn't kill him. Maybe it feels like you did. But it was an accident. He shouldn't have been driving like that, especially not with you in the car. Stop blaming yourself, nothing you can do now will change what happened."  _And I know that for a fact_ , I added silently.

Brittany was still crying, and it took a while before I realized that I was crying too. Against my better judgement, I reached out and took her hand. Sense memory is a pretty amazing thing, as soon as I touched her, I felt sparks course through my body.  _Stop_. I commanded myself.  _Stop now, before you go to far_. But nothing was hearing my common sense, and before I knew it, my arms were wrapped around Brittany, cradling her as we both sobbed. We sat there for a long time, entwined in each other, before Rachel opened up the door. Quickly, I pulled myself away and stiffened, avoiding Rachel's eyes. Of course, everyone in New York would know about that in ten seconds. I was suddenly furious again, and I fled from the room.

"I'm going out for some air." I lied to Finn, thankfully the only one on the room.

"I know where you're going. I'd rather you stay here though." He said, opening the oven and pulling out a bottle. "Don't tell Rachel I gave it to you. And for the record, I do agree with them that you drink too much. But I understand."

I was eternally grateful to Finn as I poured a glass half full of tequila and gulped it down. Kurt walked into the kitchen as I started pouring my second glass and shot daggers from his eyes.

"How is your blood not entirely tequila, Santana? Seriously, you need help."

"And seriously, you need to mind your own business. You and Rachel both think you have the right to control me. You're both fucked up, you know. You don't speak to me for weeks because you think I need help. _Then_ , you bring me here to handle my ex when you _know_ it is only going to make me feel _worse_. Next time, why don't you just hand me a gun, Hummel, make it less painful for everyone."


	3. She Came Back

Ignoring Dmitri parked outside of the house, I hailed a cab back to Manhattan. I tried, I really did, and I got Britt to talk. They could handle the rest of it, shiny happy morons. When I got back up to my apartment, I swallowed two Valium and laid down on the plush carpet on the living room floor. I knew the flashback was coming, it was beyond my control, so I dug my fingers into my sweater and hoped it didn't take me too far under.

* * *

 

_It was after 2:00am when I was leaving my shift at the club, and it was unseasonably chilly for September. I pulled my jacket closer to me and walked quickly across 9th Avenue. Rachel was constantly giving me crap about coming home from work alone so late at night, but I was from Lima Heights, crack addicts and their shady friends were nothing new to me. I wasn't like the rest of my friends. I'd just about reached Columbus Circle when I felt a hand on my shoulder and whipped my head around. It was a man not much older than me, dressed in clothes that probably cost more than my parents' house in Lima Heights. I knew him from somewhere, but I couldn't place where._

_"Trying to figure out how you know me, sugar?" He chuckled. "You gave me a lap dance last night. Nice tits, nice ass, too bad about your face though."_

_"What? Get away from me you perv."_

_Before I saw it coming, he slapped me across the face. I wanted to run, take the subway steps three, four, even five at a time, but pervy had me by the arm. I opened my mouth to scream, but this time, he hit me even harder._

_"You've got nerve, you know. Putting on a show for us when you're not even selling."_

_"What are you talking about?" I squeaked, my head ringing from the pain of his blows._

_"I saw you in the back, with your tongue down some chick's throat tonight. You think it's okay to get me going like that when there's no chance I can fuck you? That's false advertising."_

_"It's a strip club, not a brothel, you asshole, you weren't fucking anyone there."_

_This time, he hit me hard across the mouth and I tasted my own blood. I could see the rage in his eyes, and I knew I was done for. God damn Rachel Berry, if only I'd listened to her and taken a cab home, I wouldn't be here right now._

_"I fuck who I want, just because you won't give it up, doesn't mean I won't take it. But guess what, sweetheart, tonight's your lucky night. I don't want to fuck you. I just want to teach you a lesson."_

_I spit in his face, thinking I was saving my own ass, but I just enraged him further. I'd come to New York to be with people like me, where I wouldn't be harassed like back in Lima, but people were the same everywhere. This guy with his Cartier watch and $200 haircut was just like the losers from high school who thought they could make me change. There was a knife pressed against my throat, and I fought the urge to be sick. I felt my head hit the cold pavement and his knife slide across my chest before I passed out._

* * *

 

The ceiling of my apartment started to come back into focus, and I was screaming, the knife on my throat felt real.  _It was years ago. Get it together Santana._  But my screaming wouldn't stop. Someone threw me over their shoulder, and I heard the bathtub running an instant before I was dropped into the water, clothes and all.

"It's the only thing that will bring her back to reality when she's this far gone." I heard Rachel whispering, and Finn was standing by the tub, obviously the one who threw me in.

"I'm fine." I hissed, hoisting myself up out of the tub. "Hand me a towel, would you?"

Finn left the room, and I started stripping out of my wet clothes before I realized that Rachel had been talking to someone who wasn't Finn. There, ashen faced, was Brittany. I wanted to hit Rachel for bringing her, and for that matter, coming herself when I was still so mad at her. But once again, I was indebted to the merry band of misfits for helping me.

"Sorry you had to see that, Britt." I said, regretting the words as soon as they came out of my mouth. I  _wasn't_  sorry, not really.

She didn't answer, but turned around and walked out of the room. I didn't even try to fight the tears that came. What was the point, anyway? Rachel would drain the tears from my cold, dead heart if she had to. May as well save us the time and the obnoxious conversation that would follow.

"I'm sorry Santana. I didn't know things were bad like this again. Why do you let it get so out of hand before you tell anyone?" Rachel questioned.

"Because of  _this_. I used to be the badass, and now you all treat me like some disabled kid. Half the time, you're on my ass because you don't like the decisions I make, and the rest, you're infantilizing me. I hate it."

"I just want to help you."

"That's what you say, but you're not helping me if I want to be left alone."

Leaving the bathroom with a robe wrapped around me, I went to my room and laid down on the bed. Finn and Rachel would stay, they always did when they caught me in the middle of an episode, so I could count on absolutely no privacy for the night. Who knew where Brittany would go, but maybe she'd high tail it back to Lima and spare me from even more misery. Allowing myself to succumb to exhaustion, I almost fell asleep when there was a knock at my door.

"Go home Rachel! So help me God, if I get out of bed to deal with you..."

"It's not Rachel, I just wanted to see if you were okay." Brittany whispered.

"I'm fine. You can go now."

But she didn't, and I curled tighter into a ball as she sat down on the bed beside me. This was too little, and far too late. When Britt placed her hand on the small of my back, I jumped to my feet and moved myself to the other side of the room.

"You can't just come here and do this! My life doesn't concern you anymore, you made that obvious a long time ago. And if you're going to patronize me like the rest of them, I can assure you that I don't need any more of that." I snapped.

"I'm sorry, I don't know what that word means, but I feel really awful. That's why I'm here."

"Well, you should feel awful. Everyone has been trying to make me feel bad that I didn't go back for Sam's funeral to be there for YOU, when you never came to be here for me. I get it, you changed your mind and stayed with Sam, but you could have at least come to see me after."

"You don't remember, do you?" Brittany stared in amazement.

"Remember what?"

"I  _was_  here."

From across the room, I could see the tears in her eyes, and I fought hard to remember what she was talking about. Then, it all came crashing down on me, what happened on the night I almost died. The good thing that happened before everything went bad.

* * *

 

_It was 7:00 and I was in the locker room changing for my shift. It killed me, every time I came here, remembering Rachel's accusation back in high school that I'd end up on a pole. But money went too fast in New York, and I could dance, so why not put my assets to good use before I got famous? Besides, lots of people were strippers before they hit the big time, right? After clasping my bra, I turned around, and there she was, Brittany really came!_

_"Britt!" I cried, controlling myself from running shamelessly into her arms._

_"I'm here! One of those nice taxi men got me here for only $100."_

_I laughed, mentally noting to never allow her to take a cab without me again. She hadn't changed her mind! Even after she told me that she had broken up with Sam and wanted to be with me, I was skeptical. It took two months of her groveling, swearing that I was always the love of her life, and Sam was just a phase, before I told her she could come. For me, there hadn't been anyone else real after her. Sure, I'd hooked up lots, but like I'd told Britt years ago, it's because I'm like a lizard, not because I was looking for someone else to have my heart. I hadn't even told Rachel and Kurt that she was coming- to spare me from having to explain if she didn't show, or so I could savor a few precious moments with her before those two started a barrage of questions if she did._

_"I just can't believe you really came, and now, we are together again." I gushed._

_"No more heart break, from either of us, promise?"_

_Brittany held out her pinkie, and I entwined mine with hers and pressed my lips against hers. She deepened the kiss, and I drank everything about her back into me. This was what had been missing for me in New York since I got here, the reason I flew into a rage when I saw Finn's ugly face on our couch for two long, why I heckled Kurt and Blaine relentlessly. It was because I was the only one alone, but with Britt, it would all be better._

_"Lopez, let's go. Take my place, I'm going home." Sasha, an older, and unfortunately downsized to the day shift stripper, called out to me._

_"Sash, this is Britt. Do me a favor, help her get to The W in Union Square?"_

_"Oh sure, pretend I have nothing better to do."_

_"Yeah, remember that next time you ask me to pick up Alex at daycare. Just do it." I grinned._

_Looking forward to getting off of work, I wrapped my arms around Brittany's neck and kissed her again. She twisted her fingers through my hair, and Sasha nearly had to physically pull us apart. Brittany winked and blew me a kiss as she turned to walk out the door._

_"I love you." I called after her._

_"Love you more."_

* * *

 

I snapped back into reality, staring at an obviously worried Brittany, who was still sitting on my bed. How could I not have remembered that she had come back, and for ten minutes of the worst day of my life, I was actually happy?

"You came back. I remember now. But that still doesn't explain why you left again." I said icily.


	4. Just Go

Brittany looked away from me, obviously hiding something. Fresh anger clouded my mind, and I wanted to hit someone. This was infinitely worse than what I had always believed. Britt going back to Sam instead of coming to New York seemed tolerable in comparison. No, she chose me, and then she couldn't handle that I was broken so she left again.

"Did you even stick around to make sure I wasn't dead? Or did you run right back to guppy-face the second you thought things were going to get hard?"

"How can you even say that Santana? I was at the hospital that morning. With your mom."

"With my  _mom_?" I was shocked. Never once had anyone mentioned to me that Brittany was there.

"I don't believe you."

Brittany looked like she'd just been slapped, and I didn't care. I couldn't even argue. Five days of my life were completely erased from my mind. The day I was attacked, and the four days after where they waited to see if I'd ever wake up. All I knew was what my friends let dribble out in the weeks that followed. It was Finn who'd found me, after Rachel panicked that I didn't come home. I'd been flat on the ground in an alley for two hours, they guessed, by the time he'd come. Thirty percent of my blood was on the pavement, and another good chunk was on the floor of the ambulance. My fingers and lips were blue, and apparently Finn was told to call people and let them know I might not make it through the day.

When I woke up screaming in the ICU and clawing at my throat, they sedated me and tied my arms down. My mother sat at my bedside, praying in Spanish, and I could hear my father talking to (or rather, screaming at) my  _abuela_ on the phone. The others came and went, Finn, Rachel, Kurt, Blaine, even Quinn, but not Brittany. I didn't speak, just chose to lay there trapped in my own mind, remembering the feel of the knife against my skin and the intolerable fear that I couldn't save my own life.

"Well it's true." She swore.

"Rachel went with Finn to the police station, Kurt and Blaine were sleeping on the green chairs in the lobby and they had just brought you out of surgery. You were in the recovery room and I thought you were a mummy, there were so many bandages on you. I cried and cried, wishing I could do something to help you. Then your mom told me there was."

"What?" I shivered, fearing what Britt would say.

"She told me to go, to leave you be, because being there would hurt you more. I tried to argue, but I thought maybe she was right. She said you needed someone stronger, and if I really loved you, I would go and never look back."

"No. Absolutely  _not_. That didn't happen. She wouldn't do that to me. Once I was able to talk, I cried for you all night long. If she sent you away, she would have brought you back."

"Santana, she did what she thought was best for you. And I did too."

"Go!" I shrieked, feeling like someone had physically beaten me. "I can't even look at you. You're lying, you're making excuses because you were too chicken to step up and  _be there_  for me."

Brittany fled from the room and I opened the bottle of tequila that was sitting on the windowsill from the night before. Feeling the burn, I chugged straight from the bottle and let my fingers find the scar that ran from my chest, all the way up to my neck. Unfortunately, that was the best of all the scars I wore from that day. The crippling fear, the heartbreak, the loss of control, those were all so much worse. Now there was this new side, true or not, that I'd never heard before. That, plus the memory of Britt coming to me in the city before everything changed, was to think any further, I threw myself on the bed and fell into a fitful sleep.

When I woke up the next morning, there was a plate of bread, a jar of jelly and a too full glass of milk on the nightstand. Wow, Berry really went all out making breakfast for me. At least she usually toasted the bread and made some damn coffee before attempting to shove food down my throat. Walking out into my living room, I heard the shower running.

"No privacy." I muttered, and went to make myself coffee.

While the coffee was brewing, I started putting glasses in the dishwasher. I reached under the sink to grab the detergent and caught a glimpse of the recycling bin full of bottles. Wrenching open the cabinet, I saw that every full bottle was gone. Dumped down the drain, I assumed, by someone who couldn't ever mind her own damn business. Without thinking, I slammed my body against the bathroom door to let myself in.

"Hell no, Rachel Berry, you crossed a line. I'm changing the goddamn locks, you can't just come in here and throw out my shit." I screamed, waiting for an answer.

When she didn't respond, I ripped open the shower curtain and yelped when I saw who was behind it. There was Britt, actually trembling in the shower, clearly afraid I was going to do some actual damage to her pretty little face. The momentary flash of desire I felt did little to assuage my anger. Why was she still there? And was she the one who threw out every drop of liquor in my apartment? Shooting her a look that could kill, and purposely keeping my eyes off her body, I turned on my heels and walked out of the bathroom, slamming the door behind. While I sat seething on the couch, I heard the shower turn off and saw Brittany walk out in just a towel, keeping an extremely wide berth from me. Seeing her with her wet hair, mostly naked, brought back memories that clouded my mind. I turned my back to her, refusing to allow my mind go to the places it wanted to go.

"It wasn't Rachel, it was me." She whispered.

"You had  _no_  right." I hissed.

"Maybe not, but according to the people who have been watching you destroy yourself for three years, you're about ten seconds from doing something even stupider than drinking yourself silly at all hours of the day."

I bit my lip to keep from laughing when she said  _drink yourself silly_. Instead, some bitter sounding snort came out as I felt Brittany sat down on the couch beside me. Smelling my shampoo on her was too much for me to handle, so I stood up and walked to the window.

"Put some clothes on. It's bad enough you traipse back into my life and try to turn it upside down, you could at least have the decency to be dressed while you do it."

"Well. Um. I forgot to bring things with me. You know I've never been any good at stuff like that." She looked down, embarrassed.

This woman was actually going to be the death of me. While Rachel and the man-gays were spewing their bullshit about my drinking, they had just re-introduced me to heroin. Exhaling sharply, and still avoiding looking at her, I went into the bedroom and started throwing clothes in Brittany's general direction. Before she could drop her towel, I went back into the kitchen and rooted through the cabinets again to see if she'd really dumped everything. For someone who couldn't even remember to pack her own clothes, she sure was good at digging through other people's cabinets.

"Better?" She asked, standing in the doorway in my jeans and t-shirt.

"Yes."  _But not much_ , I added silently.

"Can we talk, please?" She pleaded.

"I don't know Brittany, honesty, this is all a little too much for me. You show up here, tell me things I don't know if I believe, dump every bottle in the house, walk around naked. Really, I'd rather not talk."

"Rachel and Kurt say you never talk about anything. That you're ready to explode all the time, but the only things that ever come out are insults, mostly at them."

" _Goddamn it_. They have  _no_  right to talk about me, especially to you!" I spat. "Everyone thinks they know what's best for me, but guess what, they don't. You, more than  _anyone_."

"Do you think I haven't hurt every single day since what happened to you? That I didn't cry for months while I waited for news to make it to me through the Finn-Puck-Mercedes grapevine? Well, you're wrong." She cried, tears welling up in her eyes.

"Yeah, you were  _so_  torn up by it that you ran right back to froggy lips. Cut the shit Brittany, I'm not doing this."

Her face crumpled, and I went in the bathroom to grab the bottle of Valium, since it was the only thing left in the house that would quiet my pounding heart. I resisted the urge to swallow a handful, and instead popped two in my mouth and stuck my mouth under the sink. Apparently, Brittany was some kind of parasite I couldn't get rid of, because she was standing with one hand on her hip just outside the door, staring at me.

"You really believe all that, don't you?" She asked, tears still spilling down her cheeks. "That I ran right back to Sam because being with you was too messy for me. Well I didn't. It was a year later you know, after you signed with Columbia, when I really believed that your mom was right about you being better off without me. That's when I went back to Sam, my consolation prize. If I couldn't have you, I could at least have someone good in my life."

Suddenly, I felt more out of control than I had ever in my life. More than when I first felt the knife against my throat, more than when I was laying in the hospital, not speaking to anyone, more than when I drank a bottle of tequila in one sitting and cried in bed for two days while Finn and Kurt took turns forcing me to vomit. Brittany was some kind of terrifying force that pulled me towards her. Unable to stop, I grabbed her to me and kissed her hard, wanting more, wanting everything. But as quickly as it started, I was shoving her away from me.

"No, this isn't happening. Just leave, now!" I begged, and she did, running out the door whimpering like a wounded animal.


	5. Promises

_It was six weeks after. Forty-two days since everything I knew in the world ceased to be. I'd been home from the hospital for three of those weeks, and after forcing my mom to go back to Lima by convincing her that I was perfectly fine, I retreated to my bed. That's where I'd remained since. The only time I even bathed was when Finn dropped me into the tub and one of the gays washed my hair. Even Rachel didn't freak about her boyfriend seeing me naked, or at least, she didn't freak in front of me, but then again, no one even spoke when I was around._

_Someone took away my phone so I could stop checking to see if Brittany called, but I didn't need to see it to know that she didn't. She didn't show up twice, once after the groveling for me to take her back, and again in the hospital, if even just to see that I was alive. It was over between us, and that was almost as painful as everything else is was feeling._

_Kurt and Rachel took turns sleeping in my bed, and I hated them for it. What I hated even more was that I couldn't ask them to leave, I was too afraid to sleep by myself. The world around me was black, and from behind the door to my bedroom, I could hear my friends talking about psychiatrists, medication, post-traumatic stress and psychotic breaks. There was only one solution for me; hate, hate for everyone around me, and especially, for the one who wasn't._

* * *

 

Almost a week after I'd shoved Brittany, I was again enjoying the silent treatment from the busy bodies. But that apparently, had ended without my knowledge too. Someone was banging on the door to my apartment, and I could tell it was someone with Franken-hands. Great, they'd sent Finn, and I was so over all of it. Before Sam died and the universe decided to rip the scabs off my wounds, I'd finally gotten all of them to leave me alone. And after, because of everything that had come up in the aftermath, every person I'd ever known was on a mission to irritate me.

"Well, well, they sent you Goliath?" I asked, swinging the door open.

"Nice. Really nice." He said sarcastically. "Yeah, they sent me. I guess they figured you're usually slightly nicer to me these days than you are to them."

"Remind me that I need to stop that, would you?"

"Maybe. Anyway, you know why I'm here." I sighed, glad I'd just finished a drink.

Of course I knew why, it was the same story I'd been hearing since high school, and now kissing Britt was a new development for them in my history of self destructive behavior. They wanted to talk about it, or sing about it, more likely.

"It was a mistake." I said, dejectedly. "Also, I don't want to talk about it."

"You  _never_  want to talk about it. That's part of the problem."

"Okay Man-Berry, save the psychology for your students. I get it, you saved my life, I owe it to you to stay alive. Don't you worry your freakishly large head, I'm not going anywhere. You might want to watch your girlfriend though, because if she doesn't stop telling people my business, I might hit her so hard she ends up back in Middle Earth."

"I'd love to hear you say something that wasn't an insult for once, but I guess I won't hold my breath about that. Just listen to me for a second, okay? Brittany told you the truth about being there in the hospital. The rest of us didn't know it, but she knew things she couldn't have known if she hadn't been there."

"And your point?" I asked, tapping my foot. "She lives in a world of unicorns and rainbows Finn, how could I expect her to be there for me when she left. She didn't even know if I would live or die, and she left because my  _mother_  told her to."

"I don't know Santana. But maybe you could use some unicorns and rainbows in your life, don't you think? Her coming back might be the best thing that happened to you in a long time. And just so you know, I'm worried about you, but you're a big girl. Do what you want, I'll have the others leave you alone."

Finn knew where the door was, and he was the only one who'd figured out how to use it immediately after making his point, before I came up with something to say back. My mouth was agape, wanting to say something back, but even if he wasn't already in the elevator, I was at a loss for words. The Jolly Green Giant was messing with my head, and it was already such a mess inside that I was actually allowing it to get to me.

* * *

I let another four days pass before I decided to make a move. Maybe Brittany had gone back to Lima and I could go back to my seclusion. But I found myself sad at the thought of that. As angry as I was after I kissed her, even I couldn't deny that I felt something I hadn't felt in a long time. There was some glimpse of a rainbow around the black that colored my world. God strike me dead for thinking it, but maybe Finn Hudson was right?

_Are you still here?_  I texted Britt, and heard the buzz of an immediate response.

_I'm at Rachel's theater._

_Can I see you?_  I hardly dared to hope after the last week.

_Yes :)_

My hands were shaking as I read her response, and I fought the urge to pour myself a drink before I left the house. The theater was only eighteen blocks from my apartment, and it was early enough in the day that I could get there and back home before it was dark. I pulled my hair back to keep myself from playing with it and started walking, trying not to think too much.

I got to the theater and went immediately to Rachel's dressing room, pretending I didn't notice her eyes bug out when I walked in the room. There was Brittany, sitting on the couch wearing an awful polka dot dress and tights.

"You've got to be kidding me. This is like junior year all over again." Brittany looked at me, obviously remembering when we all started dressing like the cooler version of Berry after leaving the Cherrios. It was a good memory, and I was glad to think of it. I felt really awkward, standing there with Rachel staring at me and Britt boring into me with those blue eyes. My feet felt the urge to flee, but I kept them planted on the floor.

"I'm glad you texted me, Santana. Finn asked us all to leave you alone." Britt confessed.

"Yeah." I glared at Rachel. "First time for everything, I guess. Listen, I need to get home before it gets dark. Do you want to come with me?"

"Um. Yeah. Sure. I'll come." Britt stammered.

"Good. Rachel, I'm giving you permission to call me if you want." I offered, being nice for a split second.

When Brittany and I walked into my apartment, my nervousness was becoming unbearable. I couldn't decide which was worse, seeing her wearing her weird Rachel clothes, or giving her my clothes to change into, so I just left well enough alone. She sat down on the couch and I paced back and forth for several minutes before planting myself in a chair.

"I want to hate you." I told Britt.

"And I wish you wouldn't."

"That's the problem, I don't. Listen, you want me to talk, right? I'll tell you everything, but I can't promise you what will come of it."

"Okay."

"First off, I'm sorry I kissed you, and I'm sorry I pushed you away. My head is a mess, and you know being around you has always been impossible for me. But I had no right, so I'm apologizing." I put my hand up to silence her before she could start speaking. "Second, I spoke to my mom. Well, more like I screamed at my mom for an hour and a half. But you didn't lie to me. So I'm sorry I thought you did. Still, you're an adult Britt, everyone gives you a free pass because you..." I paused, trying to think of a way to say it without calling her stupid, I knew she wasn't stupid, knew that she sometimes played it up when she needed to, but I would never call her that. "You see the world differently than everyone else. That's great, a lot of the time, but not when it hurts me. I don't know if I can trust you to handle what's going on here."

I tried not to look in her eyes, but I couldn't help it. She still looked like the same girl I fell in love with in the locker room, the same girl who made my whole world for years. I wanted more than anything to separate that girl from the one who hurt me so deeply, but they were one in the same. Brittany stood up and walked toward me and I crossed my arms over my chest to keep her from getting too close.

"I know you'll never forgive me, but I want to be here. I'm scared for you, I've always been scared for you, but more now that I see what's happened. Please, let me help. I really believed you were okay, that I made the right choice. But I didn't, and I'm sorry. I promise you that I will never leave you again."

"Sorry." I repeated, trying to let the word sink in. "I want to try, but I can't commit to anything more than that right now. Can you accept that?"

Brittany reached for my hands and I found myself reaching back for hers. Standing up, I pressed my forehead against hers and stared into those blue eyes. Part of me wanted to melt into her body and stop existing as my own being, but I tried to keep my wits about me. Her heart was nearly beating in my own chest and her lips were so close to mine that I could feel their heat, but I didn't close the gap. I let her gently pull me into her and kiss me so incredibly softly before pulling back and tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear.

"I'd accept anything that might mean a second chance." She whispered, our heads still pressed together.


	6. Safe?

Together, Brittany and I made up the pull-out couch for her. She understood that I couldn't share my bed with her just yet, but that I didn't want her to go back to Brooklyn either. My hand brushed hers as I was tucking in the top corner of the sheet and she was putting the pillows on the bed, and I felt chills down my back. She had changed into a pair of my pajamas and pulled her hair into a bun and I stood back to stare.

"What is it?" She asked. "Are you okay?"

I just smiled, letting her think that there was nothing wrong. When she had settled into bed, I turned to walk into my bedroom, leaving the door cracked. Before getting under my blankets, I opened the nightstand drawer and looked at the half-full bottle that was inside. It was calling out to me, after the stress of the day, but I closed the drawer and rested my head against the pillow. My head was throbbing as I tried to process what I was feeling.

Brittany was asleep in the next room, and I was allowing myself to try, allowing myself to let her back in my  _seriously_  fucked up world. I couldn't even believe this was happening, it was something I'd hoped for and yet fought against for such a long time. Part of me knew it probably wouldn't work, and that I was hurting myself further, but with things as bad as they already were, it wouldn't kill me to reach for the brass ring.

I hadn't realized that I fell asleep until I woke up screaming. Someone was grasping my shoulders, trying to pull me out of bed. I fought back as hard as I could until I heard a thud against the floor. Breathing heavy, I looked down to the floor, and my pulse quickened even more.  _Oh, shit_. I nearly dove to the floor.

"Brittany. Are you okay?" I shrieked.

"I'm fine, no harm done. You're still freakishly strong you know, I tried to put you in the tub, like Rachel said they do."

"Sorry, I'm so sorry." I cried, seeing the blood on Brittany's cheek where I must have scratched her.

Brittany was shaking, and trying extremely hard not to cry. She was obviously not fine. My heart hurt seeing her there like that, but I wasn't sure if I should touch her or not. I bit my lip and looked into her eyes, hoping I could figure out what she was thinking. Tentatively, she touched my hand and I started crying harder. My hand found her face, and I pulled her head to my chest. Her arms wrapped around me and we sat on the floor cradling each other for what seemed like an eternity.

"We should clean your face." I said finally, breaking the silence.

"But I don't want to let you go."

"Why? I'm the one who did this to you. I just...I don't know Britt. This is all a really bad idea. I wasn't thinking clearly earlier, we are both going to get hurt if you stay with me."

"Santana, I love you, I've always loved you. Not two hours ago you were yelling at me for running when things got hard. Well I'm not running, never again."

The sincerity in her eyes awed me, but I still couldn't make myself say that I loved her. After all, a few hours hours couldn't make up for three years. Instead of speaking, I hooked her pinkie with mine and kissed the top of her head. It was the most I could offer. Carefully, I pulled Brittany to her feet and led her to the bathroom for a washcloth. As I washed out the cuts on her cheek, I saw her wince and my heart wrenched. The wound itself was minor, but the fact that I'd inflicted it on Britt was agonizing.

"Can I..." Britt hesitated. "Can I stay with you tonight?"

"Britt, I want you to, so much, but I'm afraid. You have to promise me, if I have another episode, you can't touch me. I know you want to help, but I have no control over what my body does."

"We'll figure it out, but tonight I want to hold you and make you feel safe. But I do promise to back away if I need to, as long as you promise to remember that I know it isn't you hurting me, it's the bad memories inside."

Though I was terrified, we curled into bed together. Britt's arms were so protectively wrapped around my torso that I never wanted her to pull away. I pressed my forehead to hers, kissed the tip of her nose and brushed my lips over the marks on her cheek. The moment was so intimate that I nearly stopped breathing to keep from breaking it. In that position, for the first time since before, I fell into a dreamless sleep, unaided by alcohol or drugs.

While Britt was in the shower the next morning, I crawled out onto the balcony with the phone. Although I constantly admonished Rachel for her nosiness, she was the one who was on top of everything I'd dealt with. My stomach twisted, fearing that she would send Finn to take Brittany back for her own protection, but it was a chance I had to take.

"Hi Santana!" She answered, glad, I supposed, that the communication embargo was officially over. "How was your night?"

"Oh God." The realization hit me that maybe Rachel already knew. "Did Britt call you?"

"No! Why, is everything alright?"

Slowly, I told her what had happened over night. She didn't speak at all throughout the whole story, and I wasn't sure how to handle a silent Rachel Berry. There had been a few times in the immediate aftermath of the attack where I had come close to injuring one of them (mostly Kurt, it always seemed to be him- maybe Coach Sylvester had a point when she called him Porcelain) but this felt different. As much as I'd told her this wasn't right for us to be together, I was  _terrified_  that she would leave again.

"Okay." Rachel breathed. "So what happened after? How does she seem today?"

"She was so incredible, it's like she's never changed. I can't explain the feeling, but she held me and wouldn't let me go. I really wanted to take this slow, but I'm so drawn to Brittany that I'm afraid I will let myself fall too quickly."

"Safe, Santana. You actually feel like you're safe. I know it's an alien concept for you, but it's exactly how I felt when Finn came to me after the whole Brody mess. Despite how much we all tried, we could never make you feel like you were safe after what happened." She lowered her voice to a whisper. "After you were almost killed, we were all grasping at straws, you know, and we are still grasping. You've been a ball of anger and sadness and it's terrifying to watch someone you love on the verge of implosion."

I bit my tongue to keep from verbally lashing Rachel for thinking her five minutes with Plastic Man was any comparison. She was trying to understand, as much as someone with her charmed life could, and I  _did_  appreciate that. Also, she was right, I did feel safe, as strange as it was to think it. Part of me wanted to run, to protect myself before I got hurt again, but the bigger part dared to hope that Brittany wouldn't break my heart again. She was out of the shower, sitting on the bed in a towel drying her hair, and I had to look away so I wouldn't be distracted.

"Leave it to you to make my teeth hurt with your sappy mouth, Berry. Thank you though, for everything. I don't think I've ever said it, but you, Finn, Kurt, and even the hair gel king mean more to me than I will ever admit again."

"At the risk of you taking back the nice things you just said, I'm going to say what I've been saying for three years. We can only help so much. You need to-"

"I can't." I cut her off. "Listen, I know it's really hip with your drama queen friends to go spill your white bred guts on a shrink's couch, but it's a crock of shit."

"You don't know that. Valium and tequila haven't helped, but I promised Finn that I'd let you be about it. Please think about getting some professional help."

Seriously, I didn't even know why she bothered to continue pressing me on the issue. It wasn't happening, never. Tell a complete stranger that I saw the same face every night before I fell asleep, that my neck felt like it was on fire and sometimes I swore there was still blood in my throat? No.

"I'm hanging up now." I told Rachel and ended the call before she could say anything else.

Brittany was watching me as I climbed back in the window. I went and sat beside her on the bed and she moved her hand to my knee. Again, I felt at a loss for words with her. There was so much I wanted to say, but I couldn't formulate the way to say it. I rested my head on her shoulder and closed my eyes.

"Are you okay this morning?" She asked me.

"Yeah, fine. How's your face?"

"Good. Don't worry about it, Lord Tubbington scratched me much worse than this when he was addicted to cocaine. Your nails are nowhere near as sharp."

I couldn't help but smile, wishing my mind was as shiny and beautiful as Brittany's. The thing was though, as simple as she seemed to be, I knew there was much more going on in there than anyone expected. Although I wanted to tell her about my conversation with Rachel, I decided to leave it be. The previous twenty-four hours had been an emotional rollercoaster, and I wanted to quiet my mind for a few minutes before something was sure to start it up again.


	7. Look In My Eyes

Drinking tequila in the shower, that's how I calmed my nerves for the first two weeks that Brittany was back in my life. I couldn't bring myself to drink in front of her, but I couldn't give it up either. I still wasn't sure what exactly our relationship was, although she shared my bed with me and we were constantly physically affectionate, it was all very chaste. Did I want more? I wasn't even sure.

I was mentally preparing for one of the few nights I would actually leave my apartment after dark. It was another one of Rachel's opening nights, and I always made it there with the others, as much as it physically pained me. Brittany could sense my apprehension all day, and tried to help me, repeatedly touching me or speaking in soft, soothing tones. I was as distant as I could be, spending half the day out on the fire escape and the other in the bathroom with a bottle.

"Santana!" Brittany called out to me, and cracked open the bathroom door. Quickly, I hid the evidence under the sink, and pretended to apply more mascara.

"We have to go, Kurt and Blaine are downstairs with the car."

"I'm almost ready, they can relax." I snapped.

"You're acting really weird today. Are you sure you want to go?"

"Yes, I'm  _sure_. And I'm not acting weird. You know how I feel about having yet  _another_  police officer in my life Brittany, just lay off of me."

She was hurt, but I couldn't muster the strength to say something nice. I was being unfair to her, I knew that, and I wished I wasn't. Britt was trying really hard, and some days, I tried too. As I finished zipping the high necked gown, I felt her staring at me and I ground my teeth to keep my mouth shut.

"Let's go." Blaine was behind the wheel of the black Audi and Kurt blew kisses to Britt and I as we climbed in the back seat. New York had been good to them; Kurt was the style editor for the Times, and Blaine was modeling for J Crew in between television acting jobs. They had a fantastic loft in TriBeCa and had every intention of getting married by the end of the year. Most of all, they were happy and  _normal,_  which was probably why I resented them most of all.

"What did you ladies think of the dresses?" Kurt gushed. "You look fabulous!"

"They're amazing. Thanks for sending them, Kurt. And I especially thank you for Santana's dress. You know she looks super hot in red." Brittany smiled.

Noticing for the first time how beautiful Britt looked in the floor length black Versace gown, I gave her a private smile. Her face lit up, and she put her hand on my forearm. I reminded myself that the night was supposed to be fun, and promised myself I'd try a little harder to not look so miserable.

"You know Hummel, you've always had a knack for picking out lady clothes. And I do love myself the swag you send to me. Thanks."

Blaine handed the keys to the valet when we pulled up in front of the theater on 47th Street. He offered his hand to me as I climbed out of the car and Britt wrapped her arm around my waist. She'd obviously been taught by one of them to hold onto me when I had to be outside after dark- even if it was only 10 feet to the doorway. Appreciating her grasp on me, I felt myself relax a little.

The usher led us to our seats where Finn was already sitting with Burt, Carol and Rachel's dads, who I still couldn't tell apart, despite Kurt's insistence that they were absolutely nothing alike. There was entirely too much hugging and kissing among everyone for my liking, but I tolerated it, and stood beside Britt as everyone fawned over her. When the lights dimmed, my hand clamped like a vice on Brittany's and she squeezed back, a silent promise that I was okay. Rachel was a fantastic Maureen in the revival of Rent, though I laughed inside at the notion of her with another woman. As always, Finn led us to her dressing room and everyone began their showering of praises upon her. I was happy for her, really. Yes, she was constantly a thorn in my side, but she was also, unfortunately, my dearest friend, and I would never begrudge her success.

"Are you coming to the after party?" She asked, knowing that I wouldn't say no.

"Don't I always? Going to make out with any more ladies tonight?"

"I'll leave that to my favorite lady lovers." Rachel laughed, raising her eyebrows at Britt and I. "Off stage, my lips belong to one person."

As if on cue, Rachel turned around and planted a grotesquely wet kiss on Finn. Not wanting to be outdone, Britt threw her arms around my neck and kissed me, humming  _Take Me or Leave Me_ against my lips. I surprised myself, and her even more, by deepening the kiss, not stopping until I found it hard to breathe. Rachel stage-winked at me and I actually started to laugh.

"Well, enough of all that. We wouldn't want the star to be late to her own party." Finn grinned.

"You just know that you and Rachel's pecks are no match for our sweet lady kisses, don't you Finn?" Britt joked.

The party upstairs was in full swing by the time we said goodbye to the Hummels and the Berrys. I could feel a headache forming behind my eyes, and the loud music was doing nothing to ease it. Kurt began begging Britt to dance with him, and I pushed her to go so I wouldn't have to hear his squeaky whine any longer. Seizing the moment that everyone else was preoccupied, I made my way to the bar. I was several shots of tequila in when I felt a hand on the small of my back. Stifling the urge to scream, I turned around and saw Brittany with one hand on her hip and a very unhappy look on her face.

"What are you doing?" She demanded.

"It's a party, babe! What does it look like I'm doing?"

My brain felt a little hazy as she grabbed my arm roughly and dragged me into an empty bathroom. I leaned against the wall, playing with my hair and avoiding Brittany's icy blue stare.

"You really think I'm that stupid." She accused.

"I don't-"

"Stop. You obviously do Santana. You think I haven't noticed that your breath smells like liquor every time you come out of the shower? That the reason you snore so loud at night is because you're out of your mind drunk? Maybe you think you're a sneaky badass, but you obviously suck at hiding this."

"Great, now you are another fucking cop." I slurred and made a move towards the door.

Brittany grabbed me by the shoulders and I was shocked at the strength in her motions. She leaned her body against the door and pulled me close enough that our heads were touching. Her eyes were level with mine and she stared into them. The power behind her stare was painful and I shut my eyes to keep her out.

"Look at me." She demanded. " _Look in my eyes_."

"No. I won't." I protested, but even as I said it, I knew my drunken resistance was thin. Slowly, I opened my eyes.

"I made you a promise that I wasn't going to leave you again, and I'm not going to break that promise. But this ends.  _Now_. If you want someone who will make out with you and have fun, but let you do whatever you want when the fun is over, go find her, and I'll be waiting here when you get back."

"That's not..."

"Could have fooled me. You don't get to have it both ways. I can't put everything I have into you while you drink yourself to death. Every time you hide in the bathroom and drink, you are  _lying to me_. Make your choice Santana, promise me you'll get help or walk away. This is all on you now."

"I...I  _need_  you Britt."

The next thing I remembered was waking up in my bed to painfully bright sunlight and Brittany sitting over me holding a cold washcloth to my face. I was still wearing the gown from the night before and she was in an old t-shirt of mine, her eyes red ringed. While trying to stifle the pounding in my head, I pulled myself into a cross legged sitting position.

"How did we get home?" I asked.

"A cab, you can thank Blaine later for helping me carry you out. You can  _also_  thank him for telling Rachel that we left because we couldn't keep our hands off each other and wanted to get home. No sense in ruining her big night by telling her you blacked out in a bathroom."

"Thank y-" I started.

"Don't. Santana, I'm so incredibly mad right now that it hurts to look at you. I know that I have no right to talk about this, but you got a second chance to live. This existence you have is not a life, it's a mess. You are the most perfect person in this world, and I want stop hurting yourself. Please, I'm begging you."

"I'm scared, so scared." I whispered. "Help me to not be terrified all the time."


	8. Be Gentle With Me

Twenty-eight days to break a habit, that's what everyone always says, but the doctor we found told me to forget that and take everything one day at a time. Yes, he's a shrink, and Berry was so excited by this that I thought she was going to ask me to record my sessions for her inspiration. Dr. Collins, who reminds me of the dad from  _Boy Meets World_ , is probably building a castle somewhere with all the money he gets from me. Three mornings a week I'm stuck in his office that smells, for some reason, like watermelon. Two, by myself, while Brittany sits in the waiting room, and a third where she comes in with me to help me work on my  _trust issues_.

"Miss Lopez, Miss Pierce, you can come in now." Dr. Collins called.

Britt and I sat in separate chairs, because apparently I confuse physical intimacy with  _actual_  intimacy. I think that's bullshit, but I don't question the great doctor, lest I be accused of  _excessive hostility_. Apparently he didn't get the memo that I don't like labels, since half the words out of his mouth are used to categorize me.

"So Santana, last week we left off with you  _shouting_  at Brittany, again, for leaving you."

"Yeah, and?"

"Not productive. I know you've been through more than any person should have to, but if you don't start taking steps to at least move past your animosity towards Brittany, there's no point in her continuing to come here with you. This relationship won't work."

"Okay Freud, what do you want me to say?"

"Relive the day you woke up, everything you felt. You've told me a lot in our private sessions, but you have admitted yourself that you don't talk about it at all to anyone else. You need to let her in."

Both Brittany and Dr. Collins were staring at me expectantly, waiting for me to speak. I bit my lip, contemplating how to even start.  _God, I wanted a drink so bad, all the time_. I actually hadn't had anything in 23 days. It was impossible, really to sneak anything past Britt. Every time I got out of the shower, she kissed me, and I knew she was tasting my mouth for tequila. She was everywhere, even coming with me when I went up to the studio for meetings or down to the Korean deli for milk. It was so genuinely loving though, that I didn't feel nearly as smothered as I'd have figured.

"Well, here goes..."

* * *

_Screaming, I couldn't stop screaming. My throat felt like it was on fire and I couldn't swallow all the blood. Except there was no blood in my throat and I wasn't laying on the pavement anymore, I was in a hospital bed with 226 stitches closing three different slices on my neck and chest. My hands were on my throat, pulling at the bandages that covered me up._

_"She's hurting herself!" My mother screamed. "Mija, basta! Dios mio, someone help her!"_

_Someone did, a Russian nurse with terrible teeth who smelled like onions gave me a shot in the leg, and two impossibly young orderlies strapped down my hands, and then my feet once I started kicking. The Ativan in the shot kicked in almost immediately and my body felt limp. Screaming was too hard after that, so I stopped, but I didn't sleep. My eyes stayed open, darting immediately at the slightest movement in the room. There was so much crying going on around me, I wished I had the use of my hands to hit someone._

_No surprise, Berry was the worst of all, touching my hand and wailing. I didn't know at that point that everyone had been waiting days to see if I would wake up, that no one even thought I would survive. They were crying because they were grateful, but also because they were so terrified of what would happen once they knew that I_ **_was_ ** _alive._

_When I caught a glimpse of blonde hair at the door, my heart leapt. I thought it was you, Britt, but it was Quinn. She looked at me with such pity that I was almost sick. Oh, how the mighty have fallen. So many people came and went from my room in those first hours that it all started to blur together. But I knew you weren't there, and I knew you weren't coming._

_The police came and tried to ask me questions, but I wasn't speaking. I tried to push the image of him from my mind, to root myself in the present, but I kept seeing those cold, gray eyes every time I closed mine. They couldn't even dim the lights in my room, when they tried, my pulse quickened so much that the machines hooked up to me blared incessantly._

_That was when I let hate consume me. You know I've always been pretty hateful, but all that old hate seemed so trivial in comparison. I hated that crazy throat slitting fucker the most, but you were a close second Brittany. You were probably the one person who could have pulled me out of the darkness that was bearing down on me, but you weren't there_.

* * *

Brittany's head was in her hands and I could see the spasms in her back as she cried silently. My own cheeks were wet with tears, and I struggled to decide my next move. This was the first time that I felt no urge to lash out, and even the anger in my heart sounded quieter. Dr. Collins was watching us, silent, waiting. It was Britt who finally made a move, dropping to her knees in front of me and looking up into my eyes. She was pleading, silently, and where I expected to see pity in those bright blue eyes of hers, there was nothing but remorse.

"You are so, so strong." She whispered. "I don't know what else to say to you except thank you for letting me in. God, Santana, I'll spend every day of the rest of my life earning your forgiveness."

"I love you, Brittany." I said for the first time since she had come back. "I want this to work."

* * *

After my gold-star worthy  _breakthrough_  (yes, I'd been hanging around with Berry for too long) at Dr. Collins' office I was surprisingly conciliatory towards Britt. She was extremely quiet on the cab ride home, though she held my hand with an iron grip. This was how she processed her thoughts, I knew, and I didn't try to pull her out of that pretty head. Her eyes kept shifting towards my neck, which was, as usual, covered by a scarf and I swallowed hard to fight the burn I felt in my throat.

When we got up into the apartment, Brittany immediately went to the bedroom to lie down. She had been so exhausted in the past few weeks, most likely from spending her nights watching me sleep. Of course, she didn't know I knew, but I could feel her eyes drilling into me, her breathing labored while she waited for me to drift off.

"Britt?" I called softly, standing at the foot of the bed. "If you want, I'd really like to talk some more."

"Really?" She sat up immediately. "Of course we can talk."

"There's something I want to show you." I swallowed hard, urging myself to go on.

It would have to happen eventually, I knew, and the day had already been monumental. Telling Brittany about that horrific day seemed to heal a small part of me, so maybe showing her the obvious scars would have the same effect. Her eyes were riveted to me as I slowly unwound the scarf from my throat. The cold air in the room caused chills up my spine as I lifted my chin and was fully exposed. Three years later, the jagged lines still had a slight purple tinge to them with the skin pulled taut just around the marks. The largest of the three slits ran from my carotid to just above my left breast and the others sliced directly across the line, directly above the hollow of my throat. I didn't look at them very often, but the image was burned in my brain indefinitely. Brittany was staring, her hand reached out ever so slightly, and I took it in mine and touched it to the scars. She didn't recoil, as I'd expected, but held her breath and slowly fingered the lines.

"You are the first person I've shown these to. They're hideous."

"You're beautiful. All of you is so beautiful, and I don't want you to hide from me anymore." Slowly, she brought her lips to my throat and I gasped sharply.

"Be gentle with me, please."

"Always."

It was the soft touch of her lips that broke the dam inside of me. Horrible, wracking sobs escaped from my body in a way I never knew possible. I could hear Dr. Collins' voice in my head, telling me that this was what it meant to  _let myself feel_. Every nerve in my being ached, and I thought for sure that I would spontaneously combust right there on the bed. Whispering words I couldn't understand into my hair, Brittany anchored me to reality. She was fighting hard not to cry, I could tell by the shaking of her hands on my back, but she didn't let herself waver.

* * *

Hours later, after I had cried myself dry and woken from a heavy sleep with my head pressed to Brittany's heart, I felt extremely content. It's like that awful cliche about weights being lifted from my chest was actually true. Though I could have stayed in bed like that for an eternity, Britt slowly eased herself from my grasp and retreated to the bathroom. The tub was running, and I had assumed she had slipped into it. Instead, she came back in the bedroom fully clothed and smiled at me.

"I ran you a bath, with all of that fancy bubble stuff you have and I'm sure you never use. I thought maybe it would be good for you to feel a little pampered."

Leaving the bathroom door open, I peeled off my jeans and sweater, sticky from sweat. Slowly, I eased myself into the steaming bath water and breathed in the bubbly lavender smell. God, it was good, like alcohol good, no, better, like sex good. An idea sparked, and I smirked to myself. I crossed my ankles up on the edge of the tub and submerged my shoulders and neck in the water.

"Hey Britt-Britt!" I called, using the nickname I hadn't since high school. "Can you come in here a sec?"

"What is...holy legs!" She stammered upon walking into the bathroom. "Um...well. What can I help you with?"

"Well, I was thinking, Miss Pierce, that you ran me a bath that may possibly be as good as sex. Then, I remembered that I  _happen_  to know that  _sex_  is another one of your amazing talents." I flirted. "So naturally, I thought maybe you'd like to join me for some wonderfully sexy bath time."

"San..." Her eyes, I noticed pleasingly, were dark with desire. She stared at me, and I arched my back to give her more of a show.

"You don't know how much I would love to get in that tub with you right now."

"Then stop wasting time staring at me and c'mere."

"But..."

"But?"

" _But_ , I know that it's not a good idea. Today has been, I don't know, I don't want to say this wrong, but today was incredible. You've let me into your mind and your heart and now you want to let me get my hands all over your sexy body, which is extremely hard for me resist. Don't be offended babe, but I want you to be healed, and I think that we should make this a thing. When I know you won't be tempted to use my sexy body to drown your feelings, then I will take you anytime, anywhere."

"Ugh." I groaned, lifting the back of my hand to my forehead. "You always were the smart one Britt. Now go, save me from further embarrassment."

"Oh no, I'm not going anywhere. I may not touch, but I can still look."


	9. Not News

My entire day had been spend at the kitchen table hunched over the iPad tapping out notes on the piano app. It was aggravating, Nick Harlow, the guy who's album I was working on, did not have the voice for the sound I wanted to give him. He reminded me of some kind of American Idol winner, not the badass, soulful sounding singer I wanted to be writing for. I was completely uninspired by him.

On top of that, I was totally sexually frustrated, but Brittany blamed that on me, since I was constantly trying to tease her enough to make her break her vow. That woman was made of steel, I swear, I'd gotten more action from her in junior high. It had been seven days since the bathtub, and the most I saw was a quick make out on the couch. Didn't she know that was enough to drive me to drink? Alcoholic humor, get it?

Speaking of Britt, she had gone to audition for a job at this awesome dance studio in the village. She'd nail it, I was sure...she had to be nailing something, right? Things were as good as the could be. I still hadn't touched a drink (thirty days sober, I'd be getting a chip or something, if it was one of those types who went to meetings) and I was trying to continue to let Brittany into my head more and more. I couldn't say that things were any less intense in my own mind, but having a tether back made things much easier.

"Hello!" Britt shouted from the door. "Guess who is now, officially, a hip hop and jazz teacher in _New York City_?"

"That's awesome! I'm so proud of you Britt!" Then I winked. "Wanna celebrate?"

"Jeeze, you've gotten  _worse_  with age. Do you need a cold shower girl-Puckerman? Or can we talk like we are past puberty?"

"You are no longer fun, just so you know." I stuck out my tongue at her.

"So listen, I was thinking. Now that I have a job, I'm going to have to stop imposing on you and find my own place eventually."

Panic struck me hard and fast. She was talking quickly about rent and neighborhoods, but I couldn't even hear her. Why would she want to go find her own apartment? I thought things were going really well. Oh God, maybe she'd realized that she wasn't attracted to me anymore, and that's why she wouldn't let me past first base. The mushy, comfortable feeling I'd let take over my chest in the past week had quickly been stomped on. She was going to leave again. Before I had completely spiraled, I felt Britt grab my hand.

"Hello, are you in there?" She called. "I can't see you behind whatever just happened in your mind. Are you okay?"

"Yeah. Fine."

"I don't think so. You don't get to say 'yeah, fine' anymore, especially when I can tell you're not. So why don't you tell me what's really going on."

"You can't go. I mean...ugh. What I mean is that I don't know why you want to go. Why would you spend all that money on an apartment when you could just stay here?" Sort of a lie, not totally.

"Well, I just kind of started staying here and we never had any conversation, so I figured it was temporary. I mean, you know I will stay until you're okay to be by yourself, but I don't want to assume..." She was getting even more twisted up in her words than I had.

"I'm never going to be okay to be by myself, not when the alternative is being with you."

"Santana Lopez, are you asking me to move in with you? And did you really just use the excuse of me saving money on rent to do it?"

Britt pressed her lips to mine and I could feel her smiling. My heart wasn't sure if it should slow down since the panic had subsided, or speed up because Brittany was so close to me. I actually felt lightheaded and dizzy and grabbed her arms to steady myself. The overwhelming need to be near her consumed and terrified me. She talked about an abstract idea of moving and I'd nearly thrown myself from a window.  _Get a grip Lopez_. I told myself. After all I'd been through, how could  _that_  be scarier?

* * *

"You call that news?" Berry yelped as the six of us sat in the window at Joseph Leonard, where we were having brunch the next morning. "You've been living together for a month and a half already, anyway."

"Zip it, Munchkin." I laughed. "This is a big deal for us."

"Oh, I agree it's a big deal, but it was a big deal in January, not today. Besides, today is my day."

"Right, I forgot, we had five minutes that were not about you. I'm so terribly sorry, your highness."

Rachel and Finn were engaged, that was the big news of the morning. Though, I wasn't sure why that was any bigger than Britt and I living together. They'd been engaged in high school, broke up, got back together, and had been living with each other for four years. They were as boring as married people anyway, who would even know the difference? Brittany flashed me her  _be nice_  smile and Kurt went back to swiping through pictures of wedding dresses for Rachel to look at on his iPhone. Blaine was talking over him about venues, and Finn was reading something probably totally unrelated on his phone.

Britt squeezed my thigh under the table as I continued for fork through the world's best French toast. It was weird to be there, without four Bloody Mary's under my belt and without rolling my eyes at every sentence that was uttered. I was an actual person, partaking in conversation and smiling. Of course, I knew there had been some kind of secret telepathic conversation about not ordering champagne to drink to the Finchel news. I would never acknowledge it, but I was grateful.

"SanTANA!" Kurt snapped, breaking my thoughts. "Did you hear Rachel?"

"No, sorry, what?"

"Oh nothing important, I was just asking if you would be my maid of honor. No. Big. Deal."

"Me? Not Lady Hummel? But he looks so much better in taffeta than I do! And don't try and lie Rach, I know you're a taffeta bridesmaid dress kind of girl."

"Well..."

"How about this, I'll say yes, as long as you agree to this. No taffeta, no shoulder pads and no bubblegum pink. Actually, no pink at all."

"Rachel's not really getting a say." Kurt cut in. "I've seen her closet and there's no way I'm letting her pick out clothing for this day. She's Rachel Berry for God's sake. My career would be ruined if I had anything to do with the fashion choices Broadway's biggest star made for her own wedding."

"Key words:  _my own wedding_."

I zoned out for the remained of their argument and stared shamelessly at Britt instead. She was so animated in conversation, that kind of person who actually cares about what kind of center pieces Rachel would have at the wedding. And not in the same way as Kurt, who wanted to be a part of it all, no, Britt cared simply because she enjoyed seeing other people happy. She was so incredibly beautiful that it made my heart hurt, which made seeing some strange glimmer of sadness pass through her eyes in that moment all the more heartbreaking for me.


	10. Grant Me the Serenity

_**Santana's POV** _

Mondays sucked. I worked on my own schedule, and yet I still couldn't manage to shake the Monday blues every week. That Monday after the Rachel Berry Engagement Extravaganza Brunch was particularly bad, with back to back meetings scheduled from 6am until mid-afternoon, since I couldn't plan them for later in the day, in case it got dark early. When I finally came back into the apartment, all I wanted was a bath, some lunch and some Brittany.

When I walked in, I realized that was definitely not going to happen. Sitting on the couch with Britt was my oldest rival, Quinn Fabray. We had our share of ups and downs over the years, and we were definitely at a down point. I'd had a bad night with a bottle of tequila a year earlier, and never showed for Quinn's wedding to her 46 year old account, named (I swear) Archibald in freaking lame-ass Westchester. Okay, that  _was_  bad, but I probably didn't make things much better when I told her that it was okay, I'd catch her next two weddings. Needless to say, she hadn't called me since.

"Fabray, what are you doing here?" Then I noticed that Brittany had obviously been crying. "What did you do to Britt? Do I need to remind you that I'm not afraid to slap you."

"She didn't do anything, I called her." Britt said softly. "I needed her help."

"Her help?"

Britt looked up at me with her baby blues and I could see deep fear brewing inside. Instinctively, I went to her side, cupping her cheek in my hand. She pulled away slightly and that's when I got really scared.

"What is going on?"

"Santana, maybe you should-" Quinn started.

"Shut it Quinn. I'm not talking to you. I'm talking to Britt. Babe, what's going on?"

"I am..." She hesitated, crying again. "I'm pregnant."

Immediately, I recoiled like I had been slapped, and jumped to my feet. Brittany braced herself for me to inflict some kind of physical damage on her. Uncontrollable agony started crashing over me in waves and I couldn't see straight. Quinn was lucky she was as far away as she was, because I probably would have hit  _her_  just to release some of the torment from my body. Brittany was pregnant, the world was a totally different place than it was forty-five seconds earlier.

"What. The. Actual.  _Fuck_." I spat. "Tell me you're fucking kidding me right now."

"Santana." Quinn tried.

"Quinn, you do not want to fuck with me right now. Do. Not. Speak."

"I didn't know...I never would have...I just...I don't know what to say." Brittany wasn't even making sense, and was literally gasping for breath between words.

"You're  _how_  pregnant and you didn't know? And you never would have  _what_ , Brittany? Been ending things in the car with Sam that night? Never would have come back to me? Made me world feel like it made sense again just to  _rip all that out from under me_?" I was actually shrieking, Snix style. "This is so completely fucked up, I don't even know what to say to you. I've been living with you for six weeks, and you've been pregnant and you DIDN'T KNOW? God, you're so..."

"Santana..." Quinn stopped me before I could say the word that Brittany hated so much.

"Fabray, shut the fuck up or I will fucking kill you right here, right now." I hissed. "Guess what Britt, I have good news for you, you don't need to figure out what else to say to me, because I'm leaving."

Shoving Quinn hard on the way, I ran out the door and slammed it behind me. _I can't do this, I can't do this, I can't do this_ , I told myself. Never in a million years should I have gotten back involved with her, I knew this would never end pretty. Pregnant. She was fucking pregnant. As soon as I was out on the sidewalk, I threw up bitter bile. Panicking, I started calling Rachel repeatedly, not knowing what else to do. There was no answer and I could feel myself getting sick again.

 _Calm yourself down_! My brain was screaming at me, but I only knew one way how. No, I  _wouldn't_  do it, I  _couldn't_  let myself spiral. Instead, I started walking, it was the only thing I could force myself to do. Almost two hours, thirty-six cigarettes, twenty-three unanswered calls to Rachel, twelve missed calls from Brittany and three nasty texts from Quinn later, I was standing at Finn and Rachel's stoop pounding on the door.

"I just walked over a fucking bridge to get here!" I yelled at no one, while a yuppie couple with their French bulldog stared at me from the sidewalk.

There was no one home, obviously, and worse, I had keys the keys to get in, but they were buried somewhere in my dresser back in Manhattan. There were very few coherent thoughts passing in between all of the rage in my head, and I sank down on the stoop crying until I knew exactly what I needed.

* * *

 

_**Brittany's POV** _

There were only two other days in my life that ranked higher on the "worst day ever" scale than this one. Number one, the day that Santana was attacked, number two, the day that Sam died. So number three was this, the day I found out I was pregnant with my dead ex-boyfriend's baby and my damaged, alcoholic girlfriend hit my friend and then disappeared. It was bad,  _really_  bad.

Everyone thinks I'm stupid, but I'm really not as dumb as they think. I can tell you the exact date that I got pregnant, because that it was the only time in the weeks leading up to Sam's death that I had slept with him. But then I came to New York, heartbroken that this man I loved, though not in the way he loved me, had died minutes after I broke up with him. I came for  _her_ , there was never another person for me. Santana was my person. That was my concern in my new city, I hadn't even had time to consider that I might be pregnant.

So that brings me to the past weekend. I knew something was off with my body, I was exhausted, I put on weight despite dancing for hours every day, and I hadn't had my period since before Thanksgiving. I didn't want to tell Santana, not until I knew for sure, because I knew she would leave. We promised not to do it anymore, but sometimes we run when things get too hard. I called Quinn, she's the only friend I have that is not automatically team Santana, and she came with me to the doctor. Obviously, the test was positive.

"Brittany, your phone!" Quinn screamed, breaking me out of my thoughts. "It's Rachel!"

"Hello!" I screamed into the phone. "Did you get my messages?" "No, I didn't listen to anything. What the hell is going on? I have seventy-two missed calls and they are all from you and Santana. Now she isn't picking up the phone, so I'm calling you."

"She isn't with you?" I asked, my heart sinking.

"Where are you?"

"I'm at the theater Brittany. Is she okay? Can you please give me some answers here?"

"She's not okay, she hates me right now and may have left for good. Listen, I can't even get into the story right now, because you need to leave the theater and  _find her_! God, I thought she went to your house. I don't even know where to start looking."

"Don't go anywhere. Stay in the apartment in case she comes back. It's almost dark..." She says, not bothering to finish. "I'll call Finn right now."

She hung up and I buried my head in my hands. I had already known Santana wasn't with Rachel, and I knew exactly what she was doing, that just confirmed it. Scary drunk Santana flashed into my mind, and I dialed her number,  _again_. Straight to voicemail,  _again_. I'd known her for well over a decade, she wasn't going to talk to me until she was ready, and ready might never come again.

* * *

_**Santana's POV** _

"Hi, I'm Santana and I'm an alcoholic." I told the group of strangers in the school gym. "I haven't had a drink in thirty-nine days. Today I found out my girlfriend is pregnant with her ex-boyfriend's baby, and I really want a fucking drink."

It wasn't where I had intended to go when I left Rachel's stoop, but I found myself looking up a meeting schedule on my iPhone. For the first time, I was standing in front of people who didn't know me and admitting I had a problem. That  _definitely_  wasn't what I had planned, but some miraculous rational thought told me it was much better than waking up in a thick tequila haze.

It would be dark soon, I knew that, and I was terrified of ending up standing outside of Rachel's, waiting for someone to get home. My mind went to the dark place, I knew bad things could happen, _especially_  when no one knew where you were. Been there, learned that lesson, but there was a strange feeling of safety in a room filled with people like me. A grandmotherly looking older woman put her hand on my shoulder and I was surprised that it comforted me.

"You're very young." She said softly. "And so very strong to come here. Remember that, you will need it on the journey you have ahead of you."

I breathed deeply, drawing in the strength of the people around me. Everyone has has a past, just as everyone has a future. I was at a crossroads, trying to determine what would come in the days that followed. My head ached from the cigarettes and the crying, so I closed my eyes and prayed with the others in the room.

_God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change;_

_courage to change the things I can; and wisdom to know the difference._

_Living one day at a time;_

_Enjoying one moment at a time;_

_Accepting hardships as the pathway to peace;_

_Taking, as He did, this sinful world as it is, not as I would have it;_

_Trusting that He will make all things right if I surrender to His Will;_

_That I may be reasonably happy in this life and supremely happy with Him_

_Forever in the next._

_Amen._


	11. Keep Moving

_**Santana's POV** _

The sun was setting, and I started sprinting down 7th Avenue towards President St.  _Five more blocks._  I breathed, a panic rapidly building.  _Four more blocks. Three more blocks. Two. One._  I ran up the steps and slammed my body against Rachel's door. The lights were off inside and no one was home. My throat started to burn and I'd just about sunk into the concrete when Dmitri appeared on the sidewalk.

"Miss Lopez. Hello." He said disapprovingly, pulling the house keys from his jacket. "Miss Berry and Mr. Hudson have been out looking for you. I'd suggest you call them and let them know you're back in one piece."

"Yeah, sure." I muttered. "Thanks."

Tearing into the apartment, I turned on every light and climbed up into the hall closet to pulled down the pajamas that Rachel  _insisted_  I leave there. Never once had I needed them, until that moment. Then again, it was the first time I'd run out of my house in a rage with nothing. They talked to Brittany, obviously, and were probably discussing the mess that is my life on their tear through half of the bars in Manhattan and Brooklyn. That was if I was lucky. If I wasn't so lucky, my face would be plastered all over the TV before I knew it; friend of Broadway legend Rachel Berry goes missing.

I sighed, turning on a pot of water for tea.  _Brittany was pregnant._  It was torture, but I had to let myself think it again. Wasn't that supposed to be an added perk of being into women, no unwanted pregnancies? No, of  _course_  not, because I was in love with a girl who has spent years with a guy.  _So freaking precious._  I leaned my head against the counter, fighting the urge to bang it, and heard the keys turn in the lock. The troops had arrived,  _wonderful_.

"Santana!" Rachel shouted upon opening the door.

"Kitchen!" I yelled back, knowing she would keep screaming for entire forty-five seconds it would take her to find me.

"Oh my God! Are you okay? Are you...?" She asked, bounding into the kitchen with Finn.

"No, I'm not okay, and no I'm not drunk. I'm assuming you've spoken to Juno?"

"Who? What?" Finn asked, confused.

"Brittany. Do you know any one else knocked up?"

" _What_?" They shouted in unison.

Rachel moved towards me, and I immediately shot her my  _don't touch_  glare. She struggled for a moment, unsure of what to do with her body, and then settled into a counter stool. Sighing deeply I gave them the barebones story that I knew. There, I'd said it out loud again, that was twice.

"So what are you going to do?" Rachel asked.

"I've only gotten as far as deciding that I'm going to stay here, since the alternative is a hotel room and a bottle of tequila."

"I'm proud of you Santana, I know how easy it would have been..."

"Don't." I stopped her. "I'll give you two sentences of blubbery crap right now, and then I can't talk about it. I'm furious, devastated and I want to break things and scream. I love her Rachel, but I'm not doing this. I  _can't_."

* * *

_**Brittany's POV** _

"She is here." Rachel whispered to me through the phone. "I have to go, but I thought you should know that she is safe and she's sober."

"Should I-"

"No, don't come here. That's probably the worse possible thing you could do right now."

Rachel hung up the phone and tears started burning behind my eyes again.  _She is safe and she's sober._  At least there was that, right? I really wanted to go over there and beg her to come back to me, agree to do whatever she wanted so she wouldn't run away. But then, I felt this tiny flicker of anger in my chest that I couldn't place. I had never in my life been mad at Santana, that couldn't be the feeling, right?

Quinn was in the kitchen making me chamomile tea, and I was laying on the couch in the apartment that was so completely Santana with my hands on my non-existent baby bump. There was an actual tiny human growing inside me and I was completely terrified and alone, with the exception of Quinn, who I could tell was already itching to go back to her own life. Without meaning to, my mind drifted back to the second worst night of my life.

* * *

_There really are some people who are impossible to move on from, I told myself while I was getting ready to have dinner with Sam. This was it, one of those times where your life split in two directions and you had to make a hard choice. I wasn't very good at hard choices, but after the horrifically bad drunken sex I'd had with my boyfriend of two years the day before, I knew it was over._

_Let's start with the fact that it was the first time I'd been able to bring myself to sleep with him in almost two months. It was one excuse after another, and I was mostly hoping he would just up and leave. But he didn't. Sam was the good guy, one of the few that would actually tolerate a sexless relationship because he didn't want to be the one to hurt me by walking away. He was the guy that took me back after I had already left him once for Santana because he said it made him sad to see me all alone. Sam was great, but Sam was more like a brother to me than anything._

_"Brittany?" Sam called, having obviously opened the door to my apartment. "Are you ready to go?"_

_"Can I talk to you before we leave?"_

_"Let's talk in the car, babe. We have reservations at 8."_

_We were never going to make it to those reservations anyway, not after I broke up with him, so I still don't know why I got in the car. The thing was, I wasn't even scared to do it, the relationship felt dead to me already, so I didn't think Sam would react the way he did. But I got in the front passenger seat, and we drove in silence for ten minutes before I finally dropped the bomb._

_"Sam, I can't do this anymore. This act I've been putting on for years, it's not working."_

_"What?"_

_"I am still in love with her. God, Sam, you've been this really awesome friend to me all this time, and-"_

_"Friend? Are you kidding me Britt? I've been more than a_ **_friend_ ** _to you. I love you. And don't you think it has killed me that every single time someone mentions her name, or you hear some song on the radio that you telepathically know she wrote, your eyes change and you stop speaking? But I stayed, because you needed me. I stayed because some days, you really made me believe that you loved me back."_

_The speed of the car increased, but Sam's never stopped looking at me. I shifted in my seat uncomfortably and avoided his stare. It's weird, when you break up with someone and you start remembering all the good things about them, and even then, you still know it's over. I felt really bad that he was so upset, but I really thought I could love him when we got back together, I just didn't realize that I could never be_ **_in love_ ** _with him._

_"I love you too Sam, but not like that."_

_"Yeah, because you never could love me most, and I don't think you've ever tried. Instead, you do this crazy dance with_ **_her_ ** _. So what are you going to do now, run back to New York again? You really think she wants you back? First off, the last time you saw her she was dying in a hospital bed and you walked away. And second, she might be an evil bitch, but she's hot, do you really think she's sitting there alone, waiting for her scardey-cat high school girlfriend to come dancing back into her life?"_

_"You do not get to talk about me leaving!" I shouted, my own feelings of guilt coming to the surface, so I hurled them as accusations onto him. "Was it a lie that you were on my side all this time? Something you said to get me back? You agreed with me that I did the right thing and now you're going to throw it back in my face? You can say you thought I was in love with you all you want, but that's just what you told yourself because you wished you could be as good for me as she was!"_

_There are things you say when you're angry, things that you'll apologize for the next day. Sometimes though, the next day never comes. Right after those words left my lips, the whole world went black_.

* * *

_**Santana's POV** _

It was the first time I was sitting in the waiting room of Dr. Collins' office alone. Rachel actually physically dragged me off of the couch, throwing the clothes that she sent Finn to get from my apartment in my face. I wanted to ask if he had seen Brittany, but I didn't, and Rachel didn't tell me. That probably meant that he did.  _Pregnant_ Brittany, no matter how many times I thought about it, I couldn't make it feel any less fucked up.

When he called me into the room, I actually sat in the over-stuffed chair for seven minutes staring daggers at Dr. C and not saying a word. I could picture the doctor scrawling words on his pad;  _hostile, emotionally distant, closed off_ , whatever his phrase of the day for me was. The watermelon smell was seriously pissing me off, and I considered walking out.

"Why does it always smell like watermelon in here?" I asked angrily.

"You want to talk about the smell of my office today?"

"No, I want to sit here and not have to smell it. It's like a sixteen year old's car air freshener."

"Where is Brittany today?" Dr. Collins questioned, so not innocently. This guy was  _so_  on my list. "I didn't see her in the waiting room."

_Do not go into a rage_ , I told myself. If I started screaming, I was sure he would have a whole list of new words to describe me. The doctor already thought I had  _extreme difficulty controlling my ange_ r, and if I lashed out again today, he would be signing me up for anger management classes. Therapy, AA meetings and anger management? Yeah, I don't think so.

"How should I know? Work? The park? The movies? Some type of convention for bisexual women pregnant with their dead boyfriend's babies?" I spat bitterly.

"Excuse me?"

"Yeah, you heard it right Dr. C. I should probably call National Geographic, they might want to do a special on humans giving birth to frogs."

_I_  thought that was hilarious, even for me! The doctor, on the other hand, obviously did not. He shook his head and started scribbling furiously into my file. Couldn't he at least wait until I left the room before he wrote down his theories about my royally fucked up life? I figured I deserved at least that much decency.

"Santana, I'm really sorry this happened to you." Was that sarcasm? I couldn't tell. "But it would be beneficial to you to talk about it without hiding behind your biting comments. Obviously, you're hurt by this, and I'm worried about the impact it will have on your recovery."

"Hurt doesn't even begin to describe how I feel right now." I said honestly. "She was with Sam, I get it, and as disgusting as that is for me to imagine, I could accept that. Guppy faced baby? That's something I can't. How could she  _do_  this to me?"

"This was not really something she did to you, you do understand that, correct? I expressed my concerns a few weeks ago about the two of you becoming so seriously involved again so quickly, and while I didn't expect something like this, we did discuss the heavy baggage you both were carrying into the relationship."

"Oh no, this is  _so_  not the same!" I raised my voice.

"I'm not saying it is, I'm just telling you that you have an opportunity right now to take a look at a lot of things, on your own. And whatever you decide, I need to know that you are going to be just as serious about your journey to well being now as you were on Friday when you had a pretty blonde waiting outside for you."

So the question was, was Brittany the only reason I had been trying to better myself? No, she wasn't. If she was, I would have walked into Farrell's for a drink the night before instead of into that meeting. I would have stayed on Berry's terribly uncomfortable couch all day today instead of dragging myself into Manhattan for a stupid therapy appointment. I'd given myself entirely too much time to feel sorry for myself over the past three years, and it was finally time to keep moving.


	12. Selfish

_**Brittany's POV** _

Angry, I was actually angry at Santana. It took me almost three weeks to accept it, and in that time, it grew steadily stronger every day. Selfish. I hated even thinking of the word in association with her, maybe I was wrong to even feel that way, but I couldn't held but think that she was being incredibly selfish. It didn't matter anymore that I'd made a promise not to leave her, she had made a promise too, once she'd broken, and I couldn't stick around and wait for her to come back. It obviously wasn't happening. Besides, I kind of had more important things to worry about.

I actually had an official bump now, although I was still small enough that no one noticed. According to the Internet, my baby was the size of an orange, and I'd taken to talking to it.  _Well Baby, tomorrow is it, the day we figure out what we are doing here_. It wasn't random that I'd decided on tomorrow, tomorrow would be the fourth joint therapy session that Santana wouldn't show up to, and tomorrow was the day I was done giving her a chance to cool down.

Staying in Santana's apartment had lasted all of twenty-eight hours before I packed up what little I had and went to Quinn and Archie's in Mamaroneck. I still wasn't sure why Santana had been the one to leave in the first place, but I wasn't going to stick around if she came back. According to Blaine (my most frequent contact from Team Santana, since, like he said, she didn't like him much anyway so he didn't care if she was pissed) the apartment was basically no man's land. Santana was still sleeping at Finn and Rachel's, refusing to go home.

"Quinn, do you want to go get burritos?" I called from the couch.

"Again? You know you've had Harry's Burritos four out of the past five days, right? It's actually pretty disgusting to watch you."

"I sit on the train for almost an hour each way to work, I dance for six hours straight,  _and_  I'm a sad panda. Oh, and have I mentioned I'm pregnant? This baby loves blackened chicken burritos!"

Quinn was a really good sport, and I gave her a lot of credit for it. She didn't even try to fuel my anger, even though Santana went all Lima Heights on her, but let me deal with it in my own way. I could stay there, Quinn had made it clear, for as long as I wanted, but I was already starting to feel like a guest in someone else's life. Instead, I started asking around about apartments in Lower Manhattan and Brooklyn, figuring either would be a decent place to raise a baby.  _We are gonna be okay Little Bean_ , I told my belly, but more so, it was a hope for myself.

* * *

_**Santana's POV**  
_

Apparently when you're healthy, you're supposed to feel happy. Could have fooled me! Every morning I was up just after the sky was bright enough to not terrify me and out on the sidewalk jogging four, five, six miles around Brooklyn. I went to meetings, I went to therapy, I worked in Prospect Park, I was dealing, just like I'd promised myself I would do. Physically and emotionally I was getting stronger and healthier after just three weeks, but there was this sadness I knew I wouldn't be able to shake.

"Santana!" Someone called from behind me when I jogging through the park. I whipped my head around and was shocked to see Blaine.

"Well hello, short-shorts." I answered him, slowing my pace. "Any reason you're running in Brooklyn right now, instead of in your own neighborhood?"

"Yeah, I came to talk to you. Since you love to ignore my phone calls, this was the only way."

"Don't you find it just the slightest bit creepy that you know exactly when and where I go running? Also, if this is a Britt-tervention, you can forget it!"

"Not creepy, informed, and that's exactly what it is. I'm not forgetting it, hear me out."

You would think with their jobs and relationships and you know, the entirety of their lives that had nothing to do with  _me_ , they would not constantly find something to harass me about. But they did, because really, being unbearably obnoxious was what they all did best. I considered picking up my pace again and avoiding this, but the truth was, I  _did_  want to hear what Blaine had to say about her.

"Fine, five minutes Warbler."

"Good. We've never liked each other much, but I've always respected you. You're tough and you do what you have to do for the people you love. I know you're trying to get your shit together right now Santana, but you can still do that without being completely selfish."

"I am not being selfish." I cut in. "She-"

"' _She_ ' nothing. Yeah, you were taken by surprise that she's pregnant but you need to suck it up and deal. You are never going to get over her, so sulking about this is for nothing. Do you know she sat in your joint therapy session alone for the past three weeks and cried? Or have you even thought that maybe she is completely terrified to do this alone? And that your friends will hardly talk to her because they're afraid that's as good as dropping you off in a bar? So yeah, you're selfish. And just so you know, she's done with it. If you don't get it together, you'll lose her for good.  _None_ of us want that for you, we all know how much you love her."

Blaine didn't even stay to hear my response, he turned around and jogged in the opposite direction. Was I really being that selfish? I kind of felt entitled to it. But then I thought of Britt, sitting in Dr. Collins' office all alone, scared and crying. Why didn't he tell me she'd been coming? I just assumed he'd cancelled those appointments. She had kept her promise and didn't walk away from me, but I wasn't sure how capable I was of walking back to her.

I looked at the time, it was just after eight, and if Brittany was still going to those appointments, I was cutting it extremely close to get there on time. This was it, the decision I had agonized over for weeks, and I had under an hour to come to a conclusion. I loved her, Sam's baby or not, and I had to make things right before I lost her for good. Sweaty and a total mess, I started sprinting towards the 7th Avenue subway station.

* * *

_**Brittany's POV** _

I wasn't shocked that she didn't show up, really, but I hadn't expected it to hurt as much as it did. Santana and I were over, for real, and there was no going back. Things would have been different if it was just me, especially since I'd promised I'd spend the rest of my life making up the past three years to her. But it wasn't just me anymore, and it would never be just me again. Had I been idealistic thinking the two of us could raise this baby together and be a happy family? Probably. But I liked to see the best in things, especially in her. Unfortunately, that wasn't the reality.

"Dr. Collins, this is my last time coming here." I told him.

"I figured as much. You haven't said anything, or cried at all today."

"I've accepted it. I wish more than anything that Santana and I could work things out, but I can't be the only one to try."

"Good luck Brittany. Call me if you ever need anything. I'm sorry things didn't work out."

"Thank you. I hope she keeps coming to you, keeps getting better. Even though I'm furious with her, I do still think she is such a special person. She hurts so much inside that she hurts people all around her, but maybe one day she'll stop."

"She does love you, it's obvious from the way you interact together. But I think you're doing the right thing for yourself by going."

I sat the for a few minutes, processing what was happening. My stomach hurt, probably from the burrito I'd eaten the night before, but maybe a little bit from the disappointment I was feeling too. Picking up my dance bag from the floor, I waved a final goodbye to Dr. Collins and went down the elevator.

* * *

_**Santana's POV** _

Delays on the Q, the train from hell. I had literally paced the length of the subway car, completely convinced I would never make it on time. When the train stopped at Union Square, I proceeded to push past everyone on my way up the stairs. Gasping for breath at the top, I regained my sprint and ran nine blocks to Dr. Collins' office.

Brittany was in the revolving door when I reached the front of the building, and when she stepped out, I was taken aback by her. Though it was subtle, her body had started to change, and I couldn't believe she looked even more beautiful than she always had. My breath caught in my throat staring at her, but when those ice blue eyes looked back in mine, there was a coldness I'd never seen before.

"Hi." I said softly, taking a step toward her.

"Hey Santana." She replied, without much emotion in her voice.

She started walking, turning her head slightly to see if I was following.  _Not doing this on the street_ , I thought I heard her say under her breath, so I kept pace with her until we reached the dance studio. Britt waved to a few people in the lobby, before stepping into a classroom and shutting the door behind us.

"I'm assuming you wanted to talk?" She asked, voice still flat.

"I did. I'm sorry I was late today."

"Late was forty-five minutes ago. You missed it, like the three past sessions. Also, you ignored my phone calls. At this point I'm not sure what you have to say to me."

"Britt." I started, then stopped as I felt tears pricking my eyes. I breathed myself through regaining my composure and started again. "I'm sorry that I didn't talk to you. I was really stupid."

"That's all you're sorry about?" She laughed bitterly, a sound I didn't even know she was capable of.

"No. That's I'm sorry about so many things. I'm sorry I walked out, I'm sorry that I almost called you stupid, and mostly I'm sorry that I was so selfish."

We stood there in silence for entirely too long, and I fidgeted, waiting for some kind of response. Brittany's face didn't seem to be softening. I wanted to say more, but I couldn't figure out the words to express how I felt. It was strange, even as I raced to get to her, I had hesitations, but now, as I stood there waiting, I knew this was what I wanted, to be back with Brittany. My entire being craved her.

"Yeah, you were." She finally said. "Do you know how terrified I am San? This isn't something I planned, and it definitely wasn't something I did to hurt you. You ran away, so not only was I scared for my own situation, I was scared that you were going to do something terrible to yourself. It wasn't fair to me. You know that hurting you is the last thing I want to do, and I'm sorry that this hurts you so much, but it's a reality."

"I know."

"'I know' isn't really good enough. I love you so much and I want to be with you, but it's not just us anymore. You can't think you're okay with this today and then run away again tomorrow."

"I'm not running, this is right where I want to be.  _Always_."

I held out my pinkie and she hesitated before linking hers in mine and smiling a little. She was not totally on board yet, but I truly meant what I was saying. My stomach knotted a little, realizing that I'd essentially just promised to raise Britt's baby with her. I wasn't even sure I was capable of taking care of a child, but for the love of my life, I'd do anything to make it so I was.

"Will you have dinner with me tonight?" I asked, hopefully. "I think we have a lot more to talk about."

"I'll be over after six. And just so you know, we are ordering burritos."


	13. Making Amends

**Santana's POV**

When I walked into the apartment that afternoon, I'd forgotten about the state of disarray it had been left in. The bed was still unmade from three weeks earlier, there were clothes that Finn managed to scatter all over the floor, and like everywhere in New York City, a thick layer of dust had formed over just about everything in the apartment. My nerves were shot, and when I was finally able to get in the shower at 5:30, I just stood there, letting the water rush over me.

After I dried my hair and threw sweats on, I started pacing the apartment. It was only a few minutes after six, and I couldn't believe how terrified I was that Brittany wouldn't show up. When I heard the keys in the lock, I forced myself to sit down on the couch and pretend that I hadn't been on the verge of losing my mind.

"Hey." I said softly.

"Hey yourself." Brittany smiled, though she looked like she could fall asleep standing there.

"Are you okay? You look exhausted."

"I  _am_  exhausted. We are working on a new routine and I spent the entire day repeating it over and over again." She told me, dropping her coat and collapsing next to me on the couch.

"What can I get for you?"

"Food! I'm even more hungry than I am tired. You know the best burritos ever are from Blockheads, and I definitely have to settle for second best at Quinn's."

Cringing at the mention of Quinn, I called and ordered the food, glad it bought me some more time before I needed to talk. When people say  _devastatingly beautiful_ , I never understood what they meant. But standing in the kitchen on the phone staring at Brittany lying back on the couch in her leggings and tank top, tendrils of hair plastered to her forehead, I finally got it. Desire built just below my navel and I shook my head and swallowed hard to try and quell it.  _Get it together, Lopez_ , I repeated my mantra.

Lifting Britt's feet into my lap to make room for myself on the couch, I resisted the urge to touch her any further. Tonight was about talking things through and making plans for the future, not clouding up my mind and possibly pissing Brittany off in the process.

"So..." Britt trailed off, waiting for me to start talking.

"I'm really glad you came tonight B, I want to do everything in the world to make us work."

"Can we talk about you for a little bit?" She asked quietly and I nodded. "Blaine said you've been going to meetings and still haven't touched a drink. I just want you to know that I'm so proud of you for that Santana. But what do you feel like inside? I need to know where your head is."

"Well...I guess I'm still really scared most of the time. My throat still hurts out of nowhere and I have terrible nightmares, but I haven't had a real episode once. Which is an especially good thing, because Rachel leaves globs of her disgusting hair everywhere and getting thrown in her tub basically means coming out looking like Chewbacca. I still gag thinking about the last time."

"Please don't make me puke." She laughed. "That's probably the most disgusting thing I've heard in a long time. Plus, I remember the time you threw up at BreadStix because you  _thought_  you saw a hair in your food, so I know you're extra-sensitive.

"Oh God, please, we need to stop talking about this right now."

"Are you sure, because I can keep going." She twisted her fingers through her hair. "Want some with your dinner tonight?"

"You know that the universe is cruel, right? God makes love girls and then also makes me have an extreme aversion to strands of long hair, even the hair of this sexy blonde I know."

We were laughing so uninhibitedly that I almost forgot we were trying to have a serious conversation. It was Brittany who finally got serious and reached out for my hand. There it was again, that jolt of electricity that always confirmed I was right in my belief that we were so entirely meant for one another.

"Can you really do this Santana?" She asked, with a heartbreaking sincerity in her face. "Did you really mean it this morning when you said we can do this together?"

"You know, you were always right about blonde's having magical powers. This is something I would have never believed I could possibly do, but you're having a baby and I want to be there every step of the way. I promise you Brittany S. Pierce, I am all in."

When the food was finally delivered, Brittany alternated between shoving bites in her mouth and lying back half-asleep on the arm rest of the couch. After going in the kitchen to throw out the trash and get her some more water, I came back to her sound asleep. As peaceful as she looked, I knew it would be brutal for her in the morning if she slept in that position on the couch all night. Not wanting to startle her, I pressed my forehead against hers and softly whispered her name.

"Come on Britt, you need to get into bed." I said when she blinked her eyes.

"So. Tired." She murmured as I helped her too her feet and half-carried her into bed. "Need to tell Quinn..."

"I'll call her." I was shocked by my own willingness to do it. "Good night beautiful."

After kissing the tip of her nose, I walked away and stood in the doorway staring for entirely too long. She was still dressed from class and relatively sweaty, but at least she would have a comfortable sleep. Closing the door so I wouldn't wake her on the phone, I walked back into the living room and dialed Quinn's number. This was about more than letting her know that Britt was alright, it was about continuing one of the fundamental steps of recovery- making amends.

"Well, well." Quinn answered the phone. "Hello Satan, long time no talk. Going to use some more physical violence against me?"

"Listen Q, I'm doing this amends crap right now, and I'm sorry I pushed you. You were just kind of there and you have always kind of pissed me off, so you were an easy target."

"Is that  _really_  your apology?"

"Give me a break, it's the best you're going to get out of me, so take it or leave it."

"Anything else you're sorry about?"

"You're killing me Fabray- or what is it now, Chapman? Sorry I missed your wedding, and sorry I implied you'd have multiple divorces. I'm sure old Arch is a lovely guy." I told her, trying extremely hard not to be sarcastic.

"Well thanks for those sorry excuses for apologies Santana, you're lucky I've known you since middle school and will actually accept them."

_Lucky_. It was definitely a word I hadn't used to describe myself in a long time, but my strange group of friends were really starting to make me believe it was true. They were there, unconditionally, for me and I couldn't have made it to where I was without them. Sure, I said mean things to all of them pretty much all the time, but that is love, Lopez style.

"By the way Quinn, Brittany's asleep here, but she was afraid you would worry."

"When she told me where she was going tonight, I pretty much figured she wouldn't be coming home. It's actually kind of disgusting how quickly you two kiss and make up. I'm assuming she isn't coming back here tomorrow?"

"We haven't gotten that far yet, but I hope not."

I'd fallen asleep on the couch sometime after midnight, not wanting to sneak into bed and wake Brittany. At 6:13 the next morning, I dragged myself up to make coffee. It was early enough that I figured I could go for a quick run, grab some things for breakfast and be back before Britt was awake. Who was this early riser, and what had she done with Santana Lopez?

When I came back into the apartment, my hands full of bags from D'Agostino, Brittany was sitting at the table in a pair of my sweatpants with her hair still wet from the shower. As she looked into the grocery bags, she wrinkled her nose and pouted.

"What kind of food is this?"

"Yogurt, orange juice, milk, grapefruit, Special K cereal." I started listing the items in the bags.

"Yeah, I can see that. I mean where are the Lucky Charms or maybe some bacon, that would be really awesome right now!"

"And also totally bad for you. Quinn says you live on burritos, maybe you should get  _something_  with real nutritional value in your body."

"Says the girl who's pantry consists of coffee and Funions."

I started cutting up the grapefruit while she teased me. Britt was right, I typically wouldn't be caught dead forcing this kind of food down my throat, but I wasn't exactly the one to base a diet around. Tequila and cigarettes were my main diet for three years, and I also wasn't pregnant. She smelled the grapefruit when I stuck it in front of her, opened a cabinet door to pull out some sugar and stuck out her tongue at me.

"Kind of defeats the purpose Britt-Britt." I smiled as she popped a sugar coated grapefruit section into her mouth. "And watch that tongue or I may have to do something about it."

"Oh really..." She lowered her voice and moved closer to me.

"Yeah, I think so." I breathed.

Brittany's lips were millimeters from mine, and I stuck out my own tongue to lick the sugar from them. She pulled my body close to hers and I exhaled sharply, almost mesmerized by the feel of her new curves. Her eyes locked with mine, and I knew the desire I could see was reflected in my own. Before another thought could cross my mind, Britt was pushing me into the bedroom and down on the bed.

As she straddled me, her right hand slipped inside of my running shorts, and her left hand was clasped with my own. My skin felt like it was buzzing as she worked her was further up. Pulling my hand from hers, my thumbs hitched the waistband of her sweatpants and I slid them down. My heart was racing so fast that I felt like my chest was on fire and I sucked on Britt's bottom lip.

"Take off your shirt." I whispered, and she hesitated only briefly before separating from me and pulling it over her head.

The awe I felt in looking at her body shook me to the core, and it felt like seconds before her fingers sent me crashing over the edge. Brittany buried her face in my chest, and my own shaking hands brought her there with me. Her body went slack against mine and we lay there, limbs entwined for nearly a half an hour before either of us could move or speak.

"Wow." She said shakily, fingers playing with the hair around my face.

"Yeah. I. God." I stammered, hardly able to form words. "We were always good, but never that good."

"Back and better than ever."

"You know this means you're not allowed to go stay back with Quinn. I need you in my bed forever."

"Oh trust me San, I'm not going anywhere." She smirked.

"Good, now go eat your grapefruit!"


	14. Nobody Said It Was Easy

My heart began to race when I woke up in the middle of the night to an empty bed. Brittany had been back for just over a week, and my body had grown so accustomed to being entwined with hers that it felt like a part of me was missing. As was always my first reaction, I panicked and jumped immediately up from the bed.

"Britt!" I called out. "Are you alright?"

There was no response, and my eyes went immediately to the closed bathroom door. Of course, any rational person would have just assumed that Brittany was using the bathroom, but her lack of response sent fear directly through my heart. Quickly, I pushed the door open and braced myself for a terrible scene. Unfortunately, I wasn't totally wrong. Sitting on the closed toilet lid with her head in her hands was a sobbing Brittany. My heart lurched into my throat and I reached out for her.

"What's wrong? Did something happen? Are you sick?" I started pelting questions at her, and she just shook her head, unable to speak.

Crouching down in front of her, I stroked her hair gently and whispered soothing words into her ear. My stomach twisted with each of her gasps for breath and I worried about how long she had been sitting in there alone. She touched her hand to my chest, feeling my heartbeat, anchoring herself to something, the same way I often did to her. It was several minutes before her gasping stopped, but the tears still fell down her cheeks.

"When you're ready, talk to me, please." I murmured, covering her hand on my chest with my own.

"I'm. Sorry. I woke you up." She hiccuped.

"Hey, there's nothing to be sorry about. What is going on?"

"It's okay, I'll be okay."

"Brittany. It's not okay. I've never seen you this upset before, tell me why."

"Sam." She breathed, the name almost inaudible.

As was instinct, I felt as if I'd been slapped. Steeling my nerves to prevent myself from physically recoiling, I looked into Brittany's blue eyes, cloudy with sadness. It felt like an eternity ago that Rachel had summoned me to Brooklyn to get Brittany to stop crying. She'd told me that night that she blamed herself for Sam's death, and then everything went really crazy, really fast, and we had never discussed it again. God, I was  _really_  an awful human being.

"You can talk to me." I assured her. "You have to let me in."

"It hurts so much sometimes." Brittany slid down onto the floor with me. "I've never wanted to hurt anyone, and sometimes I just see all their faces in my mind and it feels like my heart is getting ripped out."

"Who's faces?"

"Sam, his parents, Stevie and Stacey. I'm haunted by them. At the funeral they looked like all the magic in their world was sucked right out."

I needed a minute to think, so I swirled my fingers down Brittany's back and took a breath. No one ever wanted to hear that it was going to be okay, I knew that from experience, especially because some things will  _never_  be okay. Sweet, beautiful Brittany would never stop blaming herself, no matter what I, or anyone else told her. Trouty could rise from the grave and tell her himself, but once that feeling took root in her heart, it would always be there.

"You already know that I could never believe this was your fault." I finally started. "But I believe that you believe it was, and that is all that matters. The thing that sucks is that once something happens, all the wishing in the world won't change it. Trou...er...Sam and I may not have gotten along, but we did both agree on one thing, that you are so incredibly amazing. I can say without any doubt that he would want you to forgive yourself."

"I just don't know how I can. It seems so unfair that I get to be here with you, the only thing I've ever really wanted, and Sam isn't even in the world anymore."

"Life is so unfair, Britt, you know I can tell you that."

"Everything is." She whispered. "These bad things keep happening to the people I care about."

My heart was aching for her. This was the thing about Brittany, she was so happy all the time that when her sadness finally came out, you were at such a loss for how to help her. Of all the pain I'd felt in my life, being helpless to take her's away might have hurt the most. She'd now pulled her knees to her chest and was rocking herself. Quickly, I pulled her towards me and wrapped my arms tight around her.

"How am I supposed to do this?" She questioned, eyes wide.

"You do exactly what you told me to do. You ask for help, and then you make sure you take it."

We sat there for close to an hour and just rocked together. Finally, when she seemed to calm down enough, I stood up and reached for her hand to pull her up. Leading her back to bed, I wrapped the comforter around us both and kissed the top of her head. She pressed her forehead against mine and bored into my eyes with her own.

"Are we going to make it?" She took me by surprise and my heart skipped.

"Of course we are going to make it. Why would you even think that?"

"Things are never going to be easy for us. We take a step forward, and then it feels like we end up further back than we started a few days later. I'm afraid of what's going to happen when..." She trailed off.

_When the baby comes_. I finished silently. It was the avocado-sized elephant in the room, that was for sure. Truth was, I still had no idea what that meant for us. All I knew was that after almost losing Brittany again, I would do  _anything_  to keep her, even if it meant carrying that baby in my own uterus. But it was a topic I was so scared to address. How did you determine your role in the life of a child you had no right to?

"When you have the baby, you are going to love it, and I'm going to love it too, as long as you'll let me."

"Oh, San." She breathed, her eyes filling with tears again. "Of course I'll let you. I was just afraid you wouldn't want to."

"You know that I love you like nothing else in this world. Anything that is even a tiny part of you will have my heart."

Brittany and I were both crying, feeling the enormity of both of our emotions between us. I promised myself to make myself more available for her to talk to. She had been hiding all of this because of me, and I couldn't let my own stubbornness be the cause of our demise. We were going to make it, I was sure of that, we were each broken in our own ways, but together, we could put the pieces back.


	15. More Than I Ever Have

It was borderline impossible to concentrate on  _anything_  with Brittany dancing ten feet from me. My headphones were on, and I was once again tapping uselessly at the screen of the iPad, trying to make music write itself. This album really felt like a joke, but with only four songs written, I was going to lose my job if I didn't get it together. How was it that I'd been able to write love songs with a broken heart for so long, but now that my heart was slightly less broken, the words wouldn't come out?

After slamming my head down on the table in frustration, I could feel Brittany slide into the seat beside me. Peeking open my eyes, I saw her's right in front of me, her head beside mine on the table. It was one of those things she did, which she had no idea was absolutely adorable, and I couldn't help but smile immediately.

"You have no idea how cute you are." I told her.

"I kind of do." She smirked. "Though I prefer incredibly sexy to cute."

"Trust me, I know you're incredibly sexy too. Why do you think it's impossible for me to get any work done when you're busting some bootylicious moves all around the apartment?"

"San, I don't actually think anyone has said  _bootylicious_  in like ten years." Brittany laughed. "Maybe you should get out of the house more, pick up some new lingo."

It was the moments like that in our relationship that I would always appreciate. They served to show me how wonderfully special Brittany was. Though it had only been two days since our middle of the night discussion and emotions were still running high, she always found a way to smile, and to make me smile right along with her. To show my appreciation to her, I kissed her lips without ever picking my head up off the table.

"This album sucks." I told her.

"Babe, you're so talented, I know it doesn't suck."

"Oh trust me, it really does. I  _hate_  this guy and every time I sit down to write for him, I just end up thinking about how much I want to slap that creepy teen idol look off of his face."

"I have a question." Britt got extremely serious. "Why do you write for other people? You've got a kick ass voice and your music would sound so much better if you were the one singing it."

Neither of us had lifted our heads, and I closed my eyes to hide the sadness that flashed across them from Brittany. For the first few months after I'd been attacked, the doctors had talked about whether I would be able to sing again. Finally, they had come to the conclusion that there had been no damage to my vocal cords, but it didn't matter to me. The one and only time I'd tried to sing while working on a song, the imaginary fire in my throat had built to such an intensity that I got physically sick. Nope, Santana Lopez didn't sing anymore.

"That part of my life is behind me." I breathed.

While anyone else would have asked me why, Brittany just blinked her eyes to show that she understood. She was the only person in the world who could speak to me even more with her eyes than with her words. I'd known it for years, but it still never ceased to amaze me.

* * *

"What does it feel like?" I asked Brittany as she lay on the exam table in the OB/GYN's office.

"Right now? Like I ate too many burritos."

"You  _have_  eaten too many burritos. But I mean, the Internet says you might be able to feel the baby move by now. You don't feel anything?"

Brittany looked at me with an adoration that I had never seen before, and squeezed my hand tighter. I realized that it was because I'd just admitted to doing Internet research about the baby, and despite my promises to the contrary, she  _still_  believed that I was going to panic and not be able to handle it. Oh, I still  _was_  freaking out, for sure, but I would be able to handle it. I tried my hardest to stay on sites like the one that told me the baby was the size of a pepper and now had fingerprints, but of course, my sick and twisted mind brought me to others that talked about maternal deaths and fetal abnormalities. That was absolutely terrifying for me, and I was trying so hard to hide it.

"Right now, I kind of just feel like my chest is on fire from that salsa." Britt told me.

"For the record, I was completely against you eating it. You need to find something else that you'll eat besides burritos and ice cream!"

"Mmmm, ice cream! We should  _totally_  stop at the Shake Shack on the way home."

"We are not waiting on an hour line for a milkshake again, when there are seventeen other places-"

My sentence was cut off by the tiny Indian woman who walked in the room. She didn't look like she could be any older than Britt and I, but she wore a name tag that read Dr. Singh. Dr. Singh smiled at the two of us, and began flipping through Brittany's chart. It was only Brittany's second visit, and my first, so needless to say, we were both pretty nervous. Her nails were starting to dig into the back of my hand, but I made no effort to loosen her grip.

"So, Miss Pierce and Miss..." Dr. Singh trailed off, waiting for someone to elaborate.

"Lopez." I said a little too brusquely, and earned a  _be nice_  glare from Brittany.

"My girlfriend." Britt nearly beamed, and I blushed.

"Ah, right, I apologize." For what, I wasn't sure. "Shall we get started?"

Quinn was with her last time she'd been in that office, so the doctor either thought I was a total bitch, Brittany was a total slut, or some combination of the two.  _Who cares what she thinks?_  I asked myself. I'd never cared before, but the guilt I still felt for abandoning Brittany last month was strong. Britt's fingers tickled the back of my hand, and I knew she knew exactly what I was thinking, and she wanted me to stop. Snapping my head back up, I tried to focus on the task at hand.

She squeezed blue gel onto Brittany's swollen belly and began to run the ultrasound wand across it. The only thing I knew about any of this was from movies, mostly from Rachel's obsession with _She's Having a Baby_ , so I wasn't sure exactly what to expect. Then I heard it, and a lump formed immediately in my throat. The baby's heartbeat. It was beating so fast, and the emotions took me by complete surprise. There were tears in Brittany's eyes, and I started fighting the ones that were rising in my own. Before I could stave off the feelings that were washing over me, the image of this tiny creature showed up on the computer screen.

"Ladies." Dr. Singh cooed. "There's your baby."

_There's your baby._  The words hit me like a ton of bricks. Despite the discussion and promises about being there to support Brittany, I'd just been considering this as  _her_  baby. I'd never really thought about what  _I_  would be to the baby, and what the baby would be to  _me_. But in that moment, hearing that amazing heartbeat and seeing this tiny life wriggling around on the screen, I knew that I wanted it all. More than anything, I wanted this to be  _my_  baby too. Britt's wide blue eyes were locked with mine, gauging my reaction, and when a wide smile broke out beneath my tears, she smiled the same one back to me.

"Beautiful." I breathed in amazement, not sure if I was talking to Britt, the baby, or both.

"And strong too." Dr. Singh added. "Everything looks very healthy. Did you want to know the sex?"

"No!" Brittany yelped almost immediately. "I want to wait."

"Okay." She laughed. "Well that settles that. I'm going to stick with my original estimated due date of August 9th, but keep in mind that babies come when they come. Unless you have any questions, I will see you in a month."

Dr. Singh left the room, handing me three pictures she had printed from the sonogram, and I lost what little composure I had left. My internal chants of  _Get it together, Lopez_  were completely drowned out by the heartbeat that was still playing in my mind. I let go of Brittany long enough for her to get dressed, but I was still sitting in the chair beside myself with emotion when she was done. Silently she sat down on my lap, pushed the hair off of my face and lifted my chin. My love for her and this tiny, swimming human was overwhelming me, it wasn't something I handled well.

"Are you alright?" Concern filled her voice.

"What the  _fuck_?" I nearly shouted, but then lowered my voice considerably with the word  _fuck_ , remembering that I'd read that the baby already had ears. "This baby isn't even born yet and is already totally ruining my bitch status. How am I supposed to intimidate the female Doogie Howser when she just saw me bawling over how ' _beautiful_ ' a heartbeat is?"

"So they really  _are_  happy tears, Santana." Brittany marveled. "God, I was so afraid you were going to freak when she said  _your baby_."

"Yeah, well I kind of thought the same thing, but I freaked in the total opposite direction. That heartbeat, and seeing the tiny face...I don't even think I have any words. How was I supposed to know that I'd want this to be my baby too?"

"R-really?" Britt stammered. "You do?"

"Yes. Britt-Britt, I didn't even know it was possible to love something you'd never asked for, to love someone that isn't even born. But apparently,  _anything_  is possible these days."

"I  _knew_  this was a magic unicorn baby!" Brittany grinned.

"How would I have expected anything else from you? C'mon, only for you and the magic unicorn baby will I wait an hour on a line for a milkshake."

"Hey Santana?"

"Yes."

"Just so you know, I might possibly love you more than I ever have right now." She gushed.

"You're just saying that because you have an obsession with salted caramel milk shakes, and I just agreed to get you one." I winked at her and grabbed her hand. Truth was, the feeling was totally mutual.


	16. Demons Inside Of Me

Before it happened, I knew it was coming. I knew it was coming, and there was absolutely _nothing_  I could do to stop it. Brittany was asleep with her head on my chest, and my limbs had already started to go weak. As quickly and as gently as I could, I tore myself away from her and rolled myself onto the bedroom floor. It was as far as I could get, as safe as I could keep her.

* * *

 

_Blood, there was so much blood everywhere. My vision was clouded with it, and when I opened my mouth to scream, no sound came out. Of course no sound came out, because the blood was coming from my throat, wasn't it? Frantically, I grabbed the broken skin and tried to stop the bleeding. It was no use, the the sticky red liquid kept pouring out and I felt myself getting lightheaded._

_I could feel his grey eyes staring at me, hear the sick, strangled laughter coming from his gut. There was a tiny scar just below his left earlobe, and it rippled with every laugh. The knife was still in his right hand, and he twisted it absently. Everything was starting to fade, and then I saw it. She was right behind him, screaming my name, trying to get to me. I tried to tell her to run, that she wasn't safe, but it was too late, he already saw her. There was nothing I could do to stop him as he grabbed her and sliced the knife, already slick with my own blood, into her throat._

_"Brittany!" I screamed, my voice miraculously finding its way back. Brittany lay where she was dropped, and the psycho had disappeared. With every ounce of strength that was left in my blood deprived body I crawled to her, grabbing her face in my hands. I didn't know who's blood was who's anymore, we were both covered in crimson. Pressing my face against hers, I looked into her blue eyes that made everything in the world okay had blackened, and when I pressed my head to her chest, there was nothing but stillness._

_"Please." I begged. "Please Britt."_

* * *

 

When I woke up, I was sweating and my throat ached. There were tears running down my face, and I knew I really had been screaming. Opening my eyes, I saw Brittany sitting a foot away from me, cross-legged with her hands beneath her. She was whispering things I couldn't understand, and silent tears were falling to the floor. Praying, I realized, she was praying that it would end, and willing herself to keep the promise she'd made not to touch me.

That wasn't a flashback. It was a full on delusional nightmare and my eyes raked Brittany's body up and down to make sure there was no physical harm done to her. Her skin was unmarked, it hadn't been real. I needed to touch her, but couldn't trust myself to reach out just yet.

"Santana." She choked, opening her eyes and meeting mine. "What can I do?"

"Touch me. Please, I need to feel your skin against me and feel your heart beat next to mine. Make me  _feel_ that you're real."

"I'm right here." She soothed, sliding close to me. "You have to breathe."

"Stay with me. I can't lose you."

"You won't. I'm not going anywhere, this is what is real."

Together, we breathed and I touched every inch of Brittany's exposed skin, letting myself really feel that she was with me. The fear still had a strong hold on me, but I wouldn't tell Britt about the horrible things I'd seen. When we crawled back into bed together, I held her tighter to me, kissing her softly, feeling the warmth of her body radiate into mine. I just wanted to forget, but as I lie awake in the darkness and felt her drift back to sleep, I knew it wasn't happening.

* * *

It had been fifteen minutes of me sitting across from Dr. Collins without saying a word before he cleared his throat. I needed to tell him, I  _planned_  to tell him, but I just felt like I was stuck. Wasn't I supposed to be getting  _better_? Three days a week in therapy, at least another two going to AA, and after the last night, I felt like I was getting  _worse_. Brittany offered to find someone to cover her morning class and come sit there with me, but I knew if she was just on the other side of the door, I'd be so much less likely to talk about it.

"I had an episode last night." I admitted to Dr. C. "But this time it was completely different than anything I've ever experienced before."

"Why don't you go ahead and tell me about it."

So I did, and my gut twisted as I described all of the blood, Brittany's dead eyes, and my total inability to stop replaying it over and over again. I could feel my heart rate increasing in just telling the story, and Dr. Collins watched my reactions. There was no doubt in my mind that I was his craziest patient, it had been bad enough when I was just replaying my  _own_  near death experience, now my mind was adding Brittany into the scene just for kicks.

"How often do you think about death?" He asked me.

"My own, or...?"

"Any death."

"I don't know." I lied.

"Santana."

"Fine. All the time. With my own death, it's been an obsessive thought since I woke up in the hospital, but this fixation I have on Brittany dying is a new thing. If it almost happened to me, why not her? And then I was thinking about how people used to always die having babies, so I started doing some research. Do you know about obstetric hemorrhaging? I saw these pictures online, and women literally can  _bleed out_  out the table giving birth. And that's just one thing-"

"Stop." Dr. Collins cut me off. "I'm concerned about this-about you, not as much about the chances of Brittany hemorrhaging and dying in a New York hospital in 2019. You've made a lot of progress in the past few months Santana, but I think it's time we re-discuss the introduction of something else to help you cope with the anxiety you're still holding."

"No. Absolutely not. No medication. I told you that already."

"I'm aware of what you told me, but I'm suggesting what is the best for you. I think you are aware that thinking about death all the time is  _not_ healthy. You're shaken today, worse than I've seen you since your very first sessions, and I'm concerned that you might let your emotions take over your rational thinking again."

What Dr. Collins was  _obviously_  saying was that I was going to start drinking again if it got too hard. I wanted to tell him he was wrong, but when I thought about lying with Brittany after she'd fallen back to sleep, I knew I couldn't say that. My hands had been shaking with desire for tequila, for enough to make me forget the nightmare, to stop  _constantly_  thinking that Britt was going to slip through my fingers in the most tragic way possible. Dr. Collins was right, and I hated him for that.

"What kind of drugs?" I demanded.

"I don't want to give you a benzodiazepine-like the Valium you were given, since you and I both know that poses many risks for you. Ideally, I'd like to start you on a low dose SSRI, try and regulate your anxiety and keep you on the right track to recovery."

"I don't know. I just don't think it will even help."

"Santana, it  _will_  help. But you need to listen to me, some people don't handle the first few weeks very well. You might have some tremors, changes in your sleep pattern-"

"This sounds like the end of those commercials with shiny happy people where someone talks extremely fast about all the reasons you shouldn't take the  _same drug_ they've been trying to sell you the whole time." I choked on my own forced laugh.

"There are always risks, but there are greater risk factors for you here than the medicine. The side effects will subside soon enough, but I can't have you start taking them and then stop immediately. It takes a little time for the medication to start working, but it would be beneficial for you to give it chance."

In the end, I conceded. After all, I had promised myself (and Brittany) that I would do everything in my power to heal myself. As I stood in the Duane Reade clutching my prescription for Paxil, I tried not to let my embarrassment show. Every time I felt weakness taking hold of me, I pushed it back down, telling myself that I was strong, that I was fighting the demons inside of me.


	17. When You're a Mother

"I'm home!" Brittany sang out as she burst in the door to the apartment.

I was lying on the couch with my eyes closed, but felt a smile tug at the corners of my mouth. Since starting the medication a week prior, my sleep schedule was more erratic than usual. Most nights, I couldn't stop the jitters long enough to fall asleep. Instead, I'd taken to resting on the couch in the middle of the day and hoping that sleep would overcome me. So far, no dice, but I was feeling slightly less anxious, so I figured I could tolerate the lack of sleep for now.

Before I could open my eyes, I felt Britt's knees on my thighs and her breath against my face. She always managed to know when I wasn't sleeping and immediately pounced on me- not that I was complaining. I peeked open my eyes and gave her a fake pout, which she quickly covered with her own lips. When Brittany slid her tongue across my bottom lip, demanding access to my mouth, I could taste the Skittles she'd obviously eaten earlier. I made a mental note to remind her later that they were  _not actually fruit_ , and therefore didn't count towards eating healthy.

"Someone had a good day." I breathed, sliding my hand under her shirt.

"And someone else is about to have a better one. Don't move!"

Excruciatingly slowly, Britt kissed her way down my body. The desire in the pit of my stomach was so built up that I was nearly screaming her name before she made any contact with my aching center. She unbuttoned my jeans and slid them down my legs, drawing circles with her fingers on my inner thighs. When I reached out for her, she grabbed my wrists and pinned them together against my exposed stomach. This girl was driving me crazy, in the best way possible, and when her fingers finally entered me and I bucked my hips up to meet them, I had tears in my eyes.

Brittany continued at her slow pace, working me so close to the edge before pulling away and starting the build up again. With one hand still holding my wrists together, and the other hand and her mouth working together, she had me writhing. Just when I thought I couldn't take it anymore, Britt locked eyes with me, and I fell over the edge. It was the most intense orgasm of my life, and every nerve in my body was buzzing for what felt like an eternity. When I finally came down, I was so relaxed that I thought I might melt into the couch.

"What  _was_  that?" I sighed.

"Well, I know the medicine is making you more tense and jumpy than usual." Britt explained, her head resting on my stomach. "I thought I'd help you relax."

"You definitely calmed me down. I literally don't think I can ever move again. My new home is right here on this couch. And there's plenty of room for two, we can just stay here forever."

"Oh no, you're coming to take a bath with me." She laughed, wriggling out from my grasp.

How could I say no to that? By the time I peeled myself off of the couch and made my way into the bathroom, Britt had already filled the bathtub dangerously close to the top with bubbles and was lying back with a grin on her face. Tossing my t-shirt and bra on top of the pile of Brittany's clothes, I slid in behind her and closed my eyes, feeling completely content.

"So you still haven't told me why you're in such a good mood."

"The studio wants to make sure I don't leave!" She started, excitedly. "Today I got called into Rick's office, and he started talking to me about paid maternity leave, benefits, all kinds of things that I really have no idea about, but it sounds super exciting. And he gave me a  _contract_!"

"Seriously? Britt that's incredible!"

"I'm so excited Santana! I didn't sign anything yet. You know better about this kind of stuff, so I wanted you to look at it first, but I think it's going to be really awesome."

The excitement was actually radiating off of Brittany and I buried my face into her neck. Such a short time at one of the best dance schools in New York, and they already wanted to do whatever it took to keep her! She was amazing, I had known that forever, but I was so happy that she was finally being recognized for it.

"You're incredible. You do know that, right?" I asked her.

"I feel  _really_  fantastic right now. And you telling me all the time doesn't hurt either."

Tipping Britt's head back so I could see her face, I pressed my lips against hers and pulled her body in closer to me. My hand was resting absently on her swollen belly, and that's when I felt it, tiny taps against my palm. Brittany's eyes widened, and I knew I wasn't imagining it. Pressing my hand down against her skin, I felt it again and fought the urge to jump up in excitement.

"Whoa." It was the only syllable I could manage.

"I think Little Bean knows that we're happy right now and wants to join in." Her smile stretched from ear to ear. Moments of bliss like that were rare, and I was pretty sure Britt was right.

We had stayed in the tub until the water was ice cold, forgetting the rest of the world. After pulling on pajamas, I realized that my phone had been ringing incessantly. Looking at the screen, I saw that it was my mother, and that she had called five times in a row. She and I hadn't spoken since I'd drunkenly screamed at her that she was a horrible human being for convincing Brittany to leave- a sentiment I still didn't totally disagree with. Why had she suddenly decided to start calling me repeatedly?

"Hello?" I answered, trying not to sound too hostile.

"Santana."

"Mami."

"How are you  _mija_?" She asked, her voice warming.

"I'm fine. Is everything okay?"

I sat down on the couch, and Brittany quickly came and joined me. She knew I hadn't spoken to my mother, though we rarely talked about it, for obvious reasons. My body was tense again and I clenched my teeth together to keep them from chattering. In an effort to keep me calm, Britt stroked my hair softly with one hand, and kept the other on my forearm.

"I'm not sure how to answer that." She told me honestly. "I miss you, and I'm concerned about you."

"Mami, I'm still so angry with you, I know that if I talk to you I'm going to say things I shouldn't."

"I saw Susan Pierce today." Bomb dropped,  _shit_.

_Your mom_ , I mouthed to Brittany and she bit her bottom lip, not sure how to react.

"Okay..." I trailed off, not really wanting to have this discussion with my mom.

"So you and Brittany are living together. I'm happy for you Santana."

"Are you?" I spat. "I wouldn't think that would be up there on your list of things to be happy about, considering."

Brittany's grip on my arm tightened as I felt my heart rate increase. So much for the blissful night we were having. I could hear my mother sigh on the other end of the phone, and I knew, like me, she was fighting her temper. Britt shifted uncomfortably, it all involved her too, and she was probably afraid I would take back my forgiveness of her if things got too intense on the phone.

"Of course I'm happy for you. I know you've chosen to be angry with me, but do you think I had any idea what I was up against? I had no idea how I could help you, I didn't know if my baby was going to live or die, and all I could think of was how to keep you from getting any more hurt." She exhaled and continued. "I made the wrong decision, but I thought I was doing the right thing for you. So I'm sorry."

"Why would you lie to me about the one person I was asking for?"

"I didn't know that Brittany had come to New York to get back together with you on the same day  _it_  happened. All I knew was that for the three years before that, you shut down every time anyone mentioned her name. You needed all of your fight to survive  _mija_ , I didn't want you fighting  _something else_  at the same time. My heart was breaking when you weren't waking up, and I didn't think that what I did would hurt you so much. I didn't know you would never find happiness without her, I didn't know how much you  _needed_  her."

Squeezing Brittany's hand, I considered my mother's words. Rationally, I could understand what she was saying, but the emotional part of me was still furious. There was all of this time I'd missed, time I'd spent destroying myself. I could hear Dr. Collins' voice in my head, telling me that  _we can't blame others for our own actions, even if we feel like they caused us to take them_. The internal conflict was awful, and I tried to move out of the haze of anger.

"Okay." I said quietly. "I'm going to try to forgive you."

" _Mi amor_ , I'm so happy for that."

My head was on Britt's shoulder while I talked to my mom awhile longer. Surprisingly, she was thrilled to ask about the baby, and told me how proud she was of me for finally getting the help I need. There was sadness in her voice, and I could feel her regret about all that had happened.  _When you're a mother, you'll understand how it hurts your heart to see your child suffer._  I hoped I'd never have to see my child in pain, and I pressed my fingers to my lips and then tapped them against Britt's belly, letting the baby know silently that I loved them.


	18. Wrapped Around Her Finger

"Brittany Susan Pierce!" I screamed from the kitchen and she peeked her head through the bedroom door. "Did you throw out your breakfast again?"

Every morning, I dragged myself out of bed and made Britt breakfast while downing copious amounts of coffee. If she insisted upon eating burritos, ice cream and candy the rest of the day, she could _at least_  have a decent breakfast. I was sure she would be over those cravings by this point, but apparently not. Instead of eating her breakfast, I was constantly finding that it had been dumped in the garbage while I was taking a shower, and she would be eating something with excessive amounts of sugar in it. Now, Brittany had walked into the kitchen and was obviously trying very hard not to laugh at my frustration.

"Ugh, Greek yogurt makes me gag!" She stuck out her tongue and started gagging for effect.

"So far this week, you've told me that oatmeal hurts your stomach, blueberry smoothies are too slimy, and granola makes your mouth bleed. I'm sensing a pattern here."

"I like eggs."

"No you don't, you told me last Friday that the smell makes you want to leave here and never come home. You're only saying that because you want the bacon that goes with the eggs." I teased, kissing her between the eyes.

"I like eggs again, promise! As long as there is bacon and lots of cheese, I'll eat them all."

She moved closer to me and sucked on my bottom lip that was sticking out in a frown. It was unfortunate, really, that Brittany knew how whipped I was. When I could no longer control the smile that was fighting its way out, Britt pulled away and dropped into a chair at the table. Holding up the glass to show me, she actually starting drinking the orange juice that I'd poured for her. I gave her a mock-exasperated sigh as I turned the pan on for bacon and started scrambling eggs.

"Are you having some too?" Britt raised her eyebrows hopefully, constantly trying to convince me to eat with her.

"I guess so. I'll just add another mile on to my run tomorrow. You know I'm not eating for two, and all of this food is going straight to my ass."

"Hey, I happen to think your ass is hot, I'd appreciate if you didn't run it off."

"Yeah, you wouldn't say that if I stopped working out. With all the burritos I've been eating, I would be flabbier than Finn without it." I smirked.

It was true, the combination of takeout food and Paxil was wrecking havoc on my body. Almost every day, I was running the East River Promenade all the way down to Battery Park and back up, then doing my old Cherrios sit-up/push-up/squat regimen when I came back upstairs. Coach Sue would be proud, or actually, more likely, tell me to skip the ice cream and drop another ten pounds. But when Britt insisted I eat with her, I couldn't help it, so I continued to push myself harder to stay in shape.

"What time are Rachel and Kurt coming?" Britt asked, interrupting my thoughts.

"They should be here by ten. Remind me again why I said yes to this."

"Because you talk a big game about how crazy they drive you, but we both know how much you love them."

"Yeah, tell me that again later when Rachel finds Barbra Streisand crib sheets that sing and Kurt tries to make us spend $15,000 on a diamond encrusted stroller."

I didn't even need to look at Brittany to know that she was giving me  _be nice_  eyes. Truth was, secretly, it made me extremely happy that my crazy friends wanted to be involved in baby shopping. It was all still pretty surreal to me, but every day that I watched Britt's belly swell bigger, and each time I felt the baby's tiny feet, I got more and more excited about finally meeting the little one. Putting the bacon and eggs on plates, I came over to the table and sat next to a visibly excited Brittany.

"We're going to have fun, I promise."

* * *

Kurt pulled up with Rachel in his car at 9:45, and I slid across the backseat so Brittany could get in easier on the sidewalk side. Kurt and Rachel were grinning like idiots as they watched her get in the car, and I would have said something nasty if I didn't have the same look on my face. Once she buckled her seatbelt, she reached for my hand and pressed her lips against my palm. I wondered if we would ever get to a point where we had enough of touching each other. I hoped not.

"Okay. Before anyone says anything, I'm laying down the rules. Break them, and I go all Lima Heights on both of you. Number one, we live in a one bedroom apartment. Putting a wall up for a nursery does  _not_  make it any bigger, so whatever ridiculously oversized accessories you were thinking about Hummel, not going to happen. Number two, Berry, if you even think-"

"What Santana is trying to say" Brittany silenced me. "Is that we are so excited you both wanted to help us with this."

"Oh, we are so happy to be a part of this wonderful experience." Rachel gushed. "Brittany, you look absolutely radiant, it really is true what they say about pregnant women glowing. The baby is the size of a pomegranate now, right?"

Brittany gave me a knowing look, and I was so pissed at Rachel for blowing my cover. Okay, so I was kind of obsessed with what fruit or vegetable the baby was the same size as. Maybe I also compulsively sent Rachel updates via text message about said obsession.  _Whatever_. This kid wasn't even born yet and I already knew it would have me wrapped around it's tiny finger. So embarrassing.  _You're cute_ , Britt mouthed to me, knowing it would embarrass me even more if she said it out loud. I was blushing furiously and trying to hide it, while she pressed my hand against her stomach so I could feel the baby kicking again.

"An-y-way." I enunciated, while ducking to hide my red face. "Kurt, please tell me we are working with some kind of plan and this is not going to be another one of those Gay-Berry wander aimlessly around the city trips that I love  _oh so much._ "

"Relax Satan, you're in capable hands. We're going downtown to Giggle, we'll pick everything out and they'll deliver it to you ladies in a couple of weeks."

Six hours into shopping, I was exhausted and extremely cranky. Brittany and Kurt had disappeared somewhere, and Rachel and I were sitting in gliders in the back of the store. She was trying to make some kind of sense of the excessive amount of purchases, and I was fighting off the beginning of a raging headache. I reached into my bag, pulled out a bottle of water and downed three Excedrine.

"Hey Santana?" Rachel asked. "How are you doing?"

"I'm fine, just exhausted from watching Kurt shriek over organic crib sheets and from Britt and I literally not knowing one thing that this kid actually needs."

"Well, I have to admit, I am  _excessively_  grateful that Finn and I won't be the first ones that have to figure all of this out. But I don't mean today, I mean in general. We haven't really had a chance to have a real conversation since you went back to your apartment."

"Rach." I sighed. "You know I want to slap you when you start this shit, right?"

"I'm well aware."

"Okay, as long as we are clear on that. But I'll tell you what's going on, because it's better than thinking about swaddling blankets and Moses baskets. I'm really doing okay, and trying to feel good again, all the time. There are some really awesome moments, and some really shitty ones." I hesitated before continuing, since only Dr. Collins knew the rest, and lowered my voice to a whisper. "My anxiety got really bad a few weeks ago, worse than it ever was. I had a weird episode where I saw Brittany being murdered by  _him_. But I'm on some new medication now, and it feels like I'm getting better. It sucks, my teeth chatter all the time, and sometimes I feel like I don't belong in my own skin, but I stopped having every waking thought be about death."

"God, Santana, I'm sorry."

Rachel started looking at me with her pity eyes, before she got her head together and snapped out of it. She knew how those looks set me off and had finally learned to stop making that face. Hesitantly, she reached out and touched me on the arm, and I didn't pull away. Pathetic as it was, I really did appreciate Little Miss Man Hands, and it was pretty cool of her to stick around me, even with all the insults and threats I threw at her.

"Britt doesn't know, about the creepy death thing, I mean. She's got a lot going on too, and I wanted to try to work through this one myself." I admitted.

"I understand. And what about the baby? You seem really happy..." She trailed off.

"You have a death wish today, don't you Berry? I'll be nice though, since I can't morally kick your ass in a store full of stuffed animals and tiny shoes. I know you probably think this is crazy, especially considering how I acted when I found out, but even if they come out with a full on trouty mouth, this baby is Britt's, so it is mine too, and God help anyone who messes with them."

"Yeah, well the only thing scarier than you hating someone is you loving them." Rachel laughed. Unfortunately, I knew just how true that was. "But I get it. You know I'm not the most rational about love either."

I genuinely laughed knowing how right she was about that. Maybe that's what love was, being totally irrational and letting yourself just feel. The only thing in my life that even made sense to me actually made no sense at all, and that was the way I felt about Britt. She was the one who could tear down my walls and turn me into a sappy mess. As much as I fought against that with everyone else, with her, it just made me love her more.

Brittany and Kurt appeared from around a corner and she was carrying a stuffed duck that was probably as big as me. Kurt was laughing hysterically, and I tried to glare at him before Britt's grin infected me with my own. I was able to get out one of the rules I'd made up before she had stopped me, and they had already managed to break that.

"How awesome is this?" She was nearly jumping up and down.

"Yeah Santana, how  _awesome_  is it?" Kurt echoed, chiding me.

"It is pretty great." I narrowed my eyes at Kurt. "But it's also gigantic."

"Aw babe, it's not  _that_  big. And it's a  _duck_. You know how much I love ducks!" Britt stuck out her bottom lip, and both Kurt and Rachel were snickering. Why did everyone know that I was completely powerless to that pout?

"Fi- _ne_." I drew out, trying to sound tougher than I was. She dropped the duck and kissed me in a way that was probably extremely inappropriate for a baby store. Yeah, that's why I couldn't resist the pout.

"I think we are done now." Britt announced when she finally detached herself from me.

"Do you guys want to come over for dinner?"

"Actually." I interjected. "I was thinking maybe we could all go out for dinner."

Three sets of eyes were on me as soon as the words left my lips, and I rolled mine back at them. It never stopped annoying me that everyone had a crazy reaction every time I acted like a normal person. Dr. Collins had been pushing me to do things  _outside of my comfort zone_ , and yeah, nighttime terrified me and I hadn't been out at night sober since  _before_ , but it would have to happen eventually.

"Whoa, quit the staring everyone. It's not a big deal, it's just dinner."


	19. The Girl I Used To Be

It was after 3:00 in the morning, and I was sitting at the kitchen table working. If I couldn't sleep, I may as well try and finish the last two songs that were driving me completely nuts. We had gotten home from dinner just after eight, when it was dark enough that Britt refused to remove her arm from around my waist, but not so dark that I went into a full fledged panic. I'd survived a night out, and I'd survived it without alcohol. Miracles never cease.

I'd left the bedroom door open, and I looked in to see Brittany illuminated by the crack of city light that came in through the blackout shade. She was beautiful, blonde hair splayed on the pillow, one arm wrapped protectively around her stomach, the other reaching across my pillow, where I'd reluctantly removed myself from her grasp. The blankets were bunched at her ankles, since she was constantly throwing them off of herself. I could write a thousand songs just about that. The problem was, they weren't songs I would write for a sixteen year old moron.

My fingers played with the keys of the piano app, wishing I had a real piano to work with. Not that anyone would have loved hearing that in the middle of the night, but still. I decided to ignore the album- something I did far too often- and started writing for someone else, someone I used to be. A girl who would have made Nick Harlow cry on a regular basis, a girl who wasn't afraid of the dark, a girl who wasn't  _broken_.

It was something I put a lot of effort into, not thinking about the girl I used to be, and the dreams I used to dream. For three years, I thought dreams didn't exist, at least not for me. Then Brittany came back, and it felt like I deserved what everyone else had, a chance to be happy again. And I would get there, even if I had to crawl with one arm. While I played, I let everything come back to me, whether it hurt or not.

_The day I broke my arm when I jumped off a swing trying to prove that I was tougher than a six-year-old Noah Puckerman. I didn't cry, not until the doctor set my arm and my mother held me in her arms after we were finally alone in the room. As bad as it hurt, I didn't want anyone to think I was a baby._

_Getting left in the bathroom at the mall by my abuela for two hours because I interrupted her shopping. I sat there, dead silent, biting my lip to keep from crying until she finally came back to get me. When I got home, I didn't tell my mother. Why risk getting smacked in the mouth the next time I saw abuela?_

_My dad, taking a day off of work and driving to Cleveland for my first baseball game. I was probably way too small, but I sat up in the front seat and thought I was the most special kid in the world. It was rare that he had time to spend with me, and I wanted to make the most of it. On the way home, I fell asleep in the car, and when he carried me into the house, I woke up, but kept pretending so he wouldn't put_   _me down._

_The first time I saw Brittany, in the locker room at junior high Cherrios camp. When she smiled at me, it was the first time I ever felt an aching need below my naval. What the hell_ **_was_ ** _that?_

_Slapping Quinn Fabray the first day I met her because she said Britt's idea for our camp completion was stupid. Even having just known Brittany for hours, I knew she wasn't stupid, and I would never let anyone call her such._

_Brittany asking me to kiss her so she could find out if it felt different to kiss a girl. Shit, why did it feel_ **_good_ ** _different?_

_Losing my virginity to Puck in ninth grade._

_Getting drunk and sleeping with Brittany a week later. It was the alcohol, I told myself, everyone does it. But why did it feel so much better than with Puck?_

_Being suckered into joining the Glee Club because Quinn convinced Brittany to help her, and I couldn't_ **_not_ ** _go along with something Britt wanted to do. Quinn knew even then that I was powerless against the pout._

_Boy Chang, Azimio, Finn, a few other guys on the football team. They just weren't man enough to turn me on. Right?_

_The tiny spark of excitement I felt when Britt told Artie and Mercedes that we were sleeping together, and then the devastation when I realized the context of it. But why did it bother me so much if I wasn't into girls?_

_Brittany trying to make me talk about my feelings for her. I didn't_ **_have_ ** _feelings for her, she was a girl. God, why did she have to make things complicated?_

_Realizing that I was so completely in love with my best friend, and how much I hated myself for those feelings._

_Being rejected by Brittany because her heart was always so full of love, that she wouldn't hurt Artie just because she loved me too. Not knowing how it was possible to love someone and hate someone so much all at the same time._

_Texting Britt that I couldn't go on Fondue For Two and get asked to the prom by her. I_ **_couldn't_ ** _have anyone know that I was a lesbian. They tried to destroy Kurt for being gay, and Santana Lopez would be destroyed by no one._

_Dating_   _Britt in secret for six months because I couldn't tell the truth about myself. It was indescribable how jealous I was of Brittany for being so comfortable with herself, and to be willing to share her feelings with the world while I was covering our clasped hands with napkins and still wishing my feelings would go away._

_The fear and the rage that overtook me when Finn told me to admit I was in love with Britt. I wasn't sure if I wanted to destroy him or destroy myself._

_The commercial. Feeling like everything I knew had been ripped out from under me, and knowing that there was no way life would ever be the same. For five hours I sat in my car and sobbed uncontrollably, hating myself, hating Finn, hating Sue, even hating Britt for making me love her so much._

_Having to tell my parents, watching them sit stoic while I told them, hey, not only am I into girls, but the whole world is going to find out in about five minutes. My mother crying, saying how nothing could ever make her love me any less, and my father, putting his arms around me like he hadn't since I was a little girl, telling me that he would always be proud of me._

_My abuela telling me to leave and never come back. And going back every day for a week, begging her to listen to me and watching her close the door in my face._

_Learning to forgive Finn because Brittany, who forgave everyone, all the time, convinced me that even though he_   _did "like, the worst thing in the entire world" he was just extremely stupid and not at all evil._

_Realizing how much I needed to be famous, to show the world how incredible Santana Lopez really was._

_Actually thinking it was a good idea that Britt put our sex tape online, not that I'd ever admit that to anyone. But hey, it really_ **_did_ ** _work for Paris Hilton and Kim Kardashian!_

_Leaving Lima, and half of my heart behind with it, to go to Louisville. Hating every single minute there, hating breaking Brittany's heart, hating feeling attracted to girls that weren't her, and finally dropping out because the hate became too much._

_Coming to New York, totally devastated and having to put on a tough girl act around Kurt and Rachel, when all I wanted to do was hide in bed and never come out. How was I supposed to get famous when I had no drive to do anything?_

_Sleeping with Quinn, probably the world's dumbest idea. Having her avoid my calls for six months because she thought I was "totally in love with her" and wanted a relationship. Somebody obviously listened to too many bad lesbian jokes, didn't she know that it was_ **_always_ ** _going to be Brittany?_

_Bringing home a different girl (always blonde, always with ridiculous legs) so many times that Kurt and Rachel had a discussion with me about "respecting other people's comfort levels." Basically, my only friends in New York were calling me a dirty slut. I told them I'd take it elsewhere, meanwhile, I was so ashamed that I didn't sleep with anyone else for six months._

_Finally burning through all of the money my mother had given me, and walking into the strip club, tail mentally between my legs, and bad ass bitch attitude on my face. I swear, as mortifying as it was, I still think I gave them the best damn audition they had ever seen._

_Singing at any open mic night I could possibly find. Not understanding how my less talented friends were all getting these amazing opportunities, and I was taking my clothes off for money_   _and singing with guitar carrying hipsters hoping to get discovered._

_Brittany, begging me to forgive her, asking to come to New York. The problem was, I'd forgiven_ **_everything_ ** _the first minute she called, I was just afraid for her to come to New York and see what a shameful mess I had become._

_Rachel pestering me constantly about being more careful taking trains in the middle of the night to Brooklyn. She just couldn't mind her own business- not that I could really talk, I loved to be in her business all the time too._

**_That night._ **

_Not being able to tell the police anything useful, even though his face was all I saw, all the time. I just couldn't make the words come out._

_Hearing Finn cry at my bedside when he thought I was sleeping, apologizing over and over again about high school. For almost two hours, he cried and swore that he wasn't like_ ** _him_** _, that he had been a stupid kid who made a stupid_   _decision and didn't realize the consequences. That was the night I_ ** _actually_** _forgave him._

_Having the stitches taken out of my throat, and having to be restrained because I was screaming and thrashing the entire time like someone was cutting me open again._

_Crying for Rachel not to leave me alone in bed, not to turn the lights out, not to make too much noise when I was trying to sleep. Basically, not to do anything, ever, that might make me see him in my head again._

_Hating Brittany._

_The first time I realized that the only thing that could make me stop seeing_ ** _his_** _face just a little bit less was tequila_.

_So many nights being thrown into the bathtub, praying to God over and over again that he would just take me out of this world._

_Trying to sing along to the radio, and tasting so much blood in my mouth that I wound up on the floor throwing up, screaming in pain until Kurt shook me awake and I gave him a black eye._

_Sending a portfolio of songs to someone Rachel knew at Columbia Records. They wanted me to sing them myself, but I told them I couldn't sing, that I just wrote music. I thought the deal would be dead, but they wanted me, and they gave me so much more money than I could have imagined._

_Moving out of the apartment I swear Rachel and Kurt only lived in because they wouldn't send me out into the world alone. There were so many people there, all the time, it was like living in a sorority house, and I was that crazy girl that they kept around because they felt sorry for me. Within three months, Rachel and Finn bought their brownstone and Kurt found the apartment in TriBeCa for him and Blaine. I picked Gramercy because it was quiet, I couldn't handle the nighttime noise._

_Drinking. Writing. Drinking. Hating my friends. Still hating Brittany. Drinking some more. For two years._

When I looked up at the clock, it was 5:45. I had been sitting there for almost three hours, and there were pages and pages of words written down and an hour and a half of music that was recorded on the iPad. It was gone. In my crazy catharsis, all of the bad was somewhere other than inside of my head. Maybe someday I would find a use for what I'd written, but until then, I was glad that it was out of my body. As tired as I was, I felt light, and I smiled, even though my face was wet with tears.

"San?" I hadn't realized that Brittany was standing across from me looking extremely concerned. "Are you okay? I missed you in bed."

"I'm okay, I really am. C'mon, lets get back in bed until you have to get up for work."


	20. The Stars Still Came Out

Finn was standing at one end of the living room with a measuring tape in his hands, while Blaine dropped the four cans of paint he was holding. Kurt was wearing coveralls, flipping through pictures on his phone, and I used every power of resistance I had not to start making fun of him. They were no doubt designer coveralls, and he would have  _saved_  himself money by just wearing sweatpants, or something normal that could be thrown out, like the other two. But I wasn't going to start about the clothes. The three of them had offered to put up a wall for the baby's room and paint, so the last thing I wanted was for Kurt to throw one of his big hissy fits and storm out.

"Britt, are you ready to go?" I called out to her.

"Two minutes." She answered.

"Why won't you tell me where we are going?"

"Because you  _love_ surprises, and I love that you love surprises, so you'll find out soon enough."

There was no way we were sticking around for the insanity that would ensue with freaking Finn and the Wonder Twins doing construction in the apartment. I wasn't even sure  _how_  we came to the conclusion that it was a good idea, but it was too late to change the plans. Besides, I had realized past week that Britt and I had yet to go on a real date in New York. We seemed to spend all of our time on the couch watching Grey's Anatomy DVDs and eating takeout, or more likely, in bed, and I wanted to take Brittany to do something special for once.

"Aren't you going to threaten me and give me a list of rules?" Finn asked, dopey grin on his face.

"One rule, Lady Face doesn't do any actual building!" Okay, so being nice didn't last all that long.

"Excuse me Santana, I will have you know that I'm  _extremely_  talented when it comes to all forms of design, and I'm offended by your assumptions otherwise." Kurt snapped.

"I don't doubt your flair for fancy. I do, however, doubt your ability to hold a hammer. Paint and curtains Hummel, I mean it!"

Kurt rolled his eyes, and both Finn and Blaine were shaking their heads at me. You would think that after almost a decade of knowing me, they would realize that nasty comments were the only way I knew how to express my love for them. But for serious, Hummel doing construction? That was just a recipe for disaster!

"I'm ready San!" Britt announced, bounding into the living room.

"Great, let's get out of here." I slipped my hand into hers.

"Thank you guys so much for doing this." She beamed. "It's going to be so awesome, I can't wait to see it."

"You're welcome Brittany, happy to do it for  _you_." Kurt said pointedly. "You know Santana, ' _better half_ ' is just an expression, _not_  a challenge. No need to make yourself more awful so your  _already_ awesome girlfriend seems even better."

Britt looked at me with a confused expression, and if my looks could have killed, Kurt would have been so dead. He just had to make comments like that in front of Brittany, he loved to see me squirm. I shook my head, and she frowned. In ten seconds, we had an entire conversation with just our eyes-  _What did you say?-Nothing bad.-Don't be so mean to him.-He provokes me.-You love him.-I love_ ** _you_** _.-And I love you, now be nice and apologize.-Ugh_.

"Sorry." I muttered and Kurt snickered. Annoying. "Thanks for doing this."

"Just go have fun, I've got it under control here." Finn promised.

When I slid into a cab, I quickly whispered the top secret location of our date to the driver before reaching out for Britt's hand to help her in. She was nearly bouncing up and down in the seat, and had a grin on like it was Christmas morning. There really was no one in the world who liked to be surprised more than Brittany did. She snuggled close to me and stole a kiss, entwining her fingers in my hair.

"Britt-Britt, are you trying to make out with me in the back of a cab?" I breathed

"Now that you mention it..." She nipped at my ear. "I was thinking about it. But I'll make you wait, since I have to wait to see where we are going."

"Ugh." I groaned, sucking on her neck. "The last time I ruined a surprise for you, you didn't speak to me for three hours."

"I forgot all about that! Christmas, senior year, when you planned that whole scavenger hunt and then told me what was at the end halfway through."

"Lord Tubbington ate one of the clues! Fat ass. And then you were pouting, and you know- Oh no, don't even think about doing it right now. I'm closing my eyes."

Before she had a chance to stick her bottom lip out and give me those eyes, I squeezed my own shut. Britt had nearly climbed into my lap, and her face was pressed against mine, but I didn't open them. Not until her hands were under my ribs,  _tickling me_ , which she knew I couldn't handle, did I open them up and cover her lips with mine, still laughing. I caught the driver's eye in the rearview mirror, and he let out a chuckle himself.

"Ladies, you're here." He announced.

"Where are we?" She was bursting.

Brittany ripped herself from my arms and scrambled out of the taxi. She was standing on the sidewalk, hand on her hip and tapping her foot while I paid the driver and got myself out. Quickly grabbing my hand, she turned to face the stone columned building. My smile reached my eyes as she pulled me toward the entrance, desperate to know what was inside. It was the Museum of Natural History, but we weren't there to wander aimlessly among the exhibits, I had very specific intentions.

"Should I make you close your eyes?" I teased her, but then realized that she already had them closed! "I really hope you're not disappointed when you see that this actually isn't a huge deal."

"Nothing you do could ever disappoint me. Besides, isn't it so much more fun this way?"

"If you say so Britt. Here, hold on to me before you trip over something."

I wrapped my arm around her waist, and she snuggled in close to me as we walked inside. She whined about how long it was taking, and I actually giggled. People were looking at us like we were crazy, but I didn't even give the pointing German tourists the Santana Lopez death stare. I mean seriously, it's New York, just last week I saw a homeless guy take off his fake leg and beat someone with it, we were not even the weirdest sight these people would see _in the next ten minutes_.

"Okay, you can open your eyes now." I told Britt, once we were sitting down. She did, and looked around in awe.

We were in the planetarium, which was surprisingly empty for a Saturday morning. The bright stars were all around us, but nothing was brighter than Brittany's eyes. Leaning her head against me, she took it all in. We sat in content silence for several minutes while my fingers played up and down her back.

"Thank you." She whispered.

"You told me the only thing you missed about Lima were the stars. I know these are cheesy computer generated ones, but-"

"No, stop, there's nothing cheesy about this. It's perfect. Do you know why I like seeing the stars so much?"

"Because you like sparkly things?" I ventured.

"Of course I like sparkly things, but that's not the reason. Back in high school, when things were..." She hesitated. "When they were bad for you, we were in the park one night, we had been drinking, and I asked you if you were okay. Do you remember what you said?"

"Hmm." I tried to remember, but failed. "I don't."

"You looked up at the sky, and you said that since the stars still came out, the whole world couldn't be falling apart. So when I look at them, I always remember that, and it makes me feel safe."

My breath caught, and I pressed my lips against her forehead, breathing in the smell of her hair. Brittany never ceased to make my heart feel something new. Maybe this is why we never went out, since all I wanted to do was curl up as close to her as I possibly could. As we looked up again at the stars, Britt pointed out constellations to me. I didn't realize that she knew so much about the sky. There was so much we had missed in each others' lives, and I loved learning things about her that I hadn't known.

"How did you learn so much about this?" I asked her.

"I took a few classes at the University of Lima a while ago, when I wasn't sure what I wanted to do with my life. The astronomy class was pretty awesome, but other than that, you know school was never really my thing."

"Yeah, mine either." I laughed. "Good thing we are just so naturally awesome."

It was one of the like, five nice days that we had in the city all year, so Britt and I stopped in a bodega to get some corn flakes to feed to the ducks in Central Park. We found a bench beside the pond and sat down, tossing the flakes until we were surrounded by ducks of every variety. This was seriously one of the few things I would never understand about Brittany. Ducks were freaking disgusting, I had no idea how she could possibly love them so much.

"Why are you scowling at the ducks?"

"They really weird me the hell out babe. I feel like they're going to join together, attack, and eat us until there is nothing left but bones."

"I cannot believe you're still afraid of them!" She giggled.

"I'm not afraid! There just staring at us, and I think they might be evil."

"You are soooo afraid of them! Santana Lopez is scared of cute, fluffy, feathery ducks!" She yelped and I frowned. "Hey, don't be sad! I think it's so cute. And don't worry, I'll protect you if they decide to form a gang and take you down."

She wrapped both of her arms around me in mock protection. Her stomach was pressed against mine, and I felt the baby's foot sliding up and down. This kid, was only the size of a grapefruit, and was no doubt already a dancer. Not that I knew all that much about how much babies move, but this baby  _had_  to be moving more than most.

"Don't you listen to her." I said, lowered my head so my lips were close to Britt's belly, "When you're here, you'll see."

"Hmm." Britt scrunched up her face, and I knew what she was doing.

"Oh no, you can't use the magic baby telepathy. Not fair!"

"Totally fair! Besides, I'm right!"

We sat on that bench for hours, laughing, kissing, talking to Britt's belly, throwing cereal at the stupid ducks. Brittany tried to insist on having hot dogs for lunch, but I forced pizza on her instead. At least she was having  _some_  kind of vegetable! Even though it was only the end of April, the sun had pinked her cheeks and I traced my finger over her freckles after she had fallen asleep on my shoulder.

Eventually, I was forced to wake her up, softly kissing each of her eyelids and drawing spirals up and down her arms. Britt smiled in her sleep, and then finally opened her eyes and melted into me. We walked in silence to find a cab, and once we were settled inside, Brittany raised an eyebrow at me and smirked.

"I think you can cash in on something now." She breathed against my neck.

"Oh can I?"

"You better."

Before I had a chance to react, Brittany moved quickly. She pushed me against the passenger side window and straddled my lap. God, she was  _still_  so flexible. We were both breathing heavily before our lips even touched, and when I finally pulled her face down to meet me, my whole body flushed. I'd never made out in a cab-well, at least not that I was sober enough to remember-and this was so incredibly hot.

Her tongue slipped into my mouth and I felt a moan escape from my own. My hands were everywhere on Britt's body, feeling her through her dress, and I couldn't wait to get her home and rip it off. I trailed kisses down the side of her face, until I reached the sweet spot on her neck. There, I sucked hard, marking her creamy white skin. Desperation grew inside of me, and I couldn't believe how wound up I was from just this. Britt's nails dug into my back, and she rolled her hips against me. Okay, so I wasn't the only one.

"Need you." She couldn't even form a sentence.

"Almost home." I let out, sounding more like a hiss than anything.

The taxi pulled up in front of our building, and I threw money in the driver's general direction as Britt dragged me out the door. In the elevator, her hands found their way inside my bra and I moaned into her mouth to stifle the sound. On our floor, she slammed my body against our door and my hand snaked its way under her dress. Britt was panting as my fingers entered her, and she struggled to undo my button and make her way inside my jeans. Neither of us could open the door, we needed to get off here and now.

She pressed harder against me, and I quickened my pace. Her teeth grazed my shoulder, and I struggled to keep myself together. This was hot, she was hot, and my knees were wobbling beneath me. Brittany was close, I could feel it, but she resisted until I got there first, screaming out her name and then hearing my own echoed right behind.

"Best. Sex. Ever." She gasped, collapsing against me on the door.

I clung to her, unsure I was capable of standing on my own. She wasn't exaggerating, that definitely was the best we'd ever had- and that was saying something. How was it even possible that we seemed to get even better all the time? I needed to kiss her, so I tiled her chin to me and softly brought my lips against hers. My head felt hazy, and I wanted a minute before I was able to function enough to get into the apartment. When I finally felt like my legs were usable again, I used the arm that wasn't wrapped around Britt to unlock and push open the door.

"Hello, ladies. Have fun out there?" Kurt cracked.  _Ah fuck_. I forgot they were here.

"Of course we had fun. It was like the awesomest day ever." Britt answered, not catching the teasing in Kurt's voice.

"I think all of Manhattan got the memo. Or at least all of this building."

"A little jealous, Hummel?" I quipped, trying to hide the blush that was coming to my cheeks. "Wish it was you having the hot hallway sex? Or are you still just a little too vanilla for that?"

Kurt opened his mouth to answer, but Finn came out from behind the door (The door! I hadn't even noticed that the wall was finished!). Clearly, he knew this might escalate and the queen of insults and the fairy princess constantly needed to be cut off. I'd give Kurt that, he was the only one who ever came close to hitting me back, hard. Britt got immediately excited when she noticed Finn, and started pulling on my arm to get me to come in to the new bedroom. Shooting Hummel a genuine smile, I followed Brittany and Finn.

"What do you think?" Finn asked, and Blaine looked up from painting a silhouette of a tree on the wall.

Brittany was bouncing on her toes, and I looked around in awe. Okay, so the room wasn't huge, but the guys had transformed it into something beautiful. The walls were painted a pale grey, and the tree Blaine was working on was yellow, as was the trim. The window would let so much light in during the day, and I could picture Britt and I sitting in here reading stories to the baby together, rocking them, watching them sleep. Jeeze, I  _really_  was becoming way too soft.

"Thank you." I said to all of them, but looked at Finn especially. He was the one who'd insisted that they do this, and I couldn't have asked for anything better.


	21. Insecurities

When we walked into the first birthing class at Beth Israel, I was so ridiculously nervous. We had just come from Dr. Singh's office, and I tried to keep the sound of the baby's heartbeat in my head to keep from freaking out. It was all getting more and more real every day. Britt squeezed my hand tighter after we sat down on the floor, and I looked around to see- okay, to judge- the other people in the class.

Brittany and I were definitely the youngest in the room, by at least ten years, with the exception of the obvious surrogate for the two gays bickering about baby names. Everyone was pretty freaking yuppie, and there were actually people discussing preschool waiting lists. Seriously, for  _unborn babies_. New York City was so beyond weird. The pregnant half of another lady couple came and sat down beside Britt and me, and I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. Solidarity.  _Fun_.

"Hi, I'm Wendy." The pixie looking woman with green eyes and choppy brown hair introduced herself.

"That's my wife Melissa back there, yelling on the phone."

"Brittany." Britt smiled her ultra-friendly one, and reached out to shake Wendy's hand. "And this is Santana."

"Nice to meet you." I mumbled. I  _hated_  dealing with people.

"How far along are you?" Wendy asked Britt.

"Twenty-four weeks. It's getting harder and harder to dance while carrying this little cantaloupe." Brittany chirped.

"What about you?"

"Twenty weeks yesterday, we just found out that he's a boy."

I started to zone out while the two of them continued to talk. Okay, so maybe Rachel was right that I was a  _terrible_  listener, but seriously, I didn't really care about this other lady's baby. Britt was the nice one, she liked talking about that kind of stuff.  _I_  couldn't understand why people tell all of their business to strangers. Brittany leaned her head against me while she spoke, and I twirled her hair absently. They continued talking until Wendy's tiny Asian wife came over and sat down.

"Sorry Wen, I'm turning off the phone now."

"Okay good. Mellie, this is Brittany and her girlfriend Santana."

Before anyone could say anything else, the nurse instructor came to the front of the room and started the class. As she began talking about stages of labor, I resisted the urge to grab a pen and start writing things down. I was probably going to be terrible in that room, since as soon as any pain started for Britt, I would be looking for someone to blame, and  _possibly_  hurt. The more I knew beforehand, the more I'd be able to control Snix, who was  _sure_  to come out.

Resting between my legs, Brittany leaned back into me and I could hear her barely audible gasp. Spasms in her thighs again, I figured, and kneaded a fist into each leg. Her breathing slowed down a little bit, and I knew the massage was helping. Personally, I didn't think she should be on her feet all day, and I worried about it constantly, but Britt wasn't ready to give up dancing and teach from the sidelines just yet. Her forehead was scrunched up, obviously thinking hard about what was being said, and I hoped she wasn't working herself up. One neurotic mess was enough.

"So what fertility clinic did you ladies use?" Mellie asked, after the class was over. I immediately tensed.

"Um." Britt looked to me for an answer, but I stared back blankly.

"Brittany, we have to go." I didn't bother explaining further.

I watched Britt shoot Mellie and Wendy an apologetic glance, and then followed me, with my arms across my chest, out of the building. It was ridiculous that I felt myself getting so upset, especially since I'd worked so hard to deal with all of these feelings.  _Fucking rude_ , I muttered as I hailed a cab,  _no privacy_. Leaning my head against the window, I shook my head, trying to no avail to clear my thoughts.

"Santana, don't do this." Brittany cried desperately.

"Don't do  _what_?" I snapped, then softened immediately when I saw the sadness flash through her eyes. "I'm sorry B, I just need a second, okay?"

"Okay. But  _please_  don't shut me out."

For the short cab ride back to the apartment, I was silent and felt Britt's eyes on me. I wasn't mad at her, she didn't do anything, I was just mad in general, and could feel my own insecurities rising up. We would probably be explaining our situation  _forever_ , and I just wanted people to mind their own business. Why did it even  _matter_  to anyone else how Brittany got pregnant? God, if I could get over it, couldn't the rest of the world?

Walking inside, I poured myself a glass of water, and stood at the kitchen counter with a death grip on it.  _Get it together, Lopez_ , I told myself for the one  _millionth_  time. Britt had sat down on the couch with her legs up, and I noticed her wince from the spasms. She had tears in her eyes from my silence, and I knew I should go over to her. I couldn't though, not until I got a grip, otherwise I'd say something horrible.

"I'm not angry with you." I promised, when I was finally calm enough to break the silence. "I just feel...I don't even know how I feel right now. People need to mind their own fucking business."

"What other people think doesn't matter." Britt started quietly. "I know this isn't a conventional situation, but it's us, you know?"

"I  _do_  know Britt. It just makes me really angry that this wont be the last time I feel like we have to explain things."

Finally putting the glass down on the counter, I went over to the couch and sank down beside Britt. She was trying to find the words for what she was going to say next, I could see it in her face, so she ran her hand up and down my forearm in the meantime. I felt myself relax slightly from her touch, but I was still having trouble.

"We don't have to explain anything we don't want. You're right about it not being anyone's business. We've talked about this, we know where we stand. Why does anything else matter besides the fact that the Little Bean has two mommies to love? Love is love Santana, I've been telling you this since high school."

"I'm just insecure." I admitted.

"Well you shouldn't be, you're so amazing. Did you know that when you walk into a room, the baby starts moving more than  _any_  other time? I think it's because my heart beats so much faster when you're around, and they can feel how much they're supposed to love you. And when you talk to my belly, forget it, somersaults and crazy acrobatic moves. You're a part of the baby too, in a different kind of way."

"I really appreciate you saying that. I'm trying to keep from shutting you out about things, Britt, but when Snix takes over, I don't want you to see her. Thank you for always trying to make me feel better."

"I just tell the truth."

Brittany left to teach her afternoon class, and I was still pretty wound up. I threw on workout clothes and sneakers and sent Rachel a text asking her to meet me at the Starbucks on Liberty Street in an hour. That's what I needed, a good run and some of Berry's crazy logic. Then, I'd hopefully be feeling like a normal person again by the time Britt came home from work. I took my usual route along the river, cranking the volume on Alicia Keys to try and drown out the rambling thoughts in my head.

By the time I got downtown, I had calmed down considerably, and I pushed my sweaty hair off my face. Luckily, Rachel and I had purposely designated that Financial District Starbucks as our permanent meeting spot, because it was always empty in the middle of the day. Fewer people to see me a sweaty mess, fewer people to hear Berry's loud mouth. I ordered a Venti black eye for myself, and a chai tea latte for her before grabbing a table in the back.

"Sorry I'm late!" She shouted when she burst through the door ten minutes later. "Thanks for ordering for me. There was a ridiculous amount of traffic on the bridge, and then there is extra security over on Broadway again-"

"You're not even late, relax Berry."

"Okay, that was too nice. What's going on?"

"Just trying to avoid physical violence.  _As usual_." I sighed, and launched into the story. When I concluded, I shook my head. "What the hell is wrong with me?"

"Can I speak openly without you yelling at me?"

"You get off on me yelling at you."

"You're disgusting. For the  _ten-thousandth_  time, I am not into girls, I am not into  _you_  and I don't ' _get off_ ' on your snarkiness." She was trying not to laugh, but I knew she thought it was funny. "Now I'm serious. I don't think you're wrong to feel as if everyone is prying into your business. You hate that more than anything, and I know that it's even harder for you to come talk to me about how vulnerable you're feeling. But there's more that you're not admitting to yourself, and you need to figure out what that is."

Ugh. Rachel was so  _obnoxious_. If she wasn't sure a big star, she could have been a therapist. I swear, sometimes she sounded exactly like Dr. Collins.  _Surface problems, dig deeper, expose your inner self_. With all the problems I had, you'd think there wouldn't be some ridiculously deep seated meaning behind my anger at some nosy bitch in class. Unfortunately, there  _was_. Even more unfortunately, that meant Berry was right.

_Closure_ , I needed something, and so did Brittany, to put this to bed. It was Sam, that's where the issue lied. Britt still cried sometimes from guilt, as much as she tried to believe me that it wasn't her fault that he died. And I had to make my own peace with the years of hate I'd felt for him, after all, he was responsible for giving me something I already loved so much- even if it turned my stomach to think about how  _that_  happened. Once I could do that, then maybe I would stop feeling so ridiculously paranoid about what other people had to say.

"You'll never stop being a pain in my ass when you're right." I told Berry. "I've gotta talk to Britt."

She offered to have Dmitri drive me home, and I accepted. I was  _trying_  to be better at listening to my friends, that way they would stop bitching at me, so I used the car ride for her to catch me up on her life. She was probably going to be nominated for a Tony, and if she was, she would push back the wedding to extend her  _Rent_  run. Same old story with Rachel and Finn, they would probably be sixty before they  _finally_ tied the knot. When we got to my building, I actually reached out and gave Rachel a real hug. She was a good friend, as much as I wanted to strangle her sometimes.

Brittany wasn't home yet, so I got into the shower and soaked myself under the scalding water until the hot water ran out. When I walked into the bedroom to get dressed, Britt was already home and laying on the bed with her shoes still on. She looked absolutely exhausted, and I figured maybe our conversation would have to wait until morning.

"Hey." She said softly, while I slid my sweatpants on. "How are you doing?"

"Okay. I went for a run and then had coffee with Berry, so I had time to work some things out in my head. But you look like you're going to fall asleep right now. We can talk on the morning."

"No, no. I want to talk now. Can you just help me take off my sneakers though? I don't think I have the physical strength to do it."

I frowned at her, she was working herself too hard, but untied her sneakers and slipped them off of her feet. Sighing, she moved further back on the bed and stole my pillow to put under her knees. When she was settled, I sat cross legged beside her and sandwiched her hand between mine.

"What I'm going to say right now is just an option Britt-Britt." I used my nickname for her so she knew everything was okay. "But I think it might help us both with some issues we're having."

"Okay..." She hesitated.

"Your choice, I'm serious. I don't want you to think I'm pushing you into anything. Promise?" Her pinkie wrapped around mine and she didn't need to speak. "I think that we need to go to Ohio."

" _Ohio?_ "

"Yeah. I mean, we should go to Lima and see our parents- I know your mom is desperate to see you. But also, you said Sam's parents are in Akron. I think it'll help you forgive yourself if you see them again, and they don't know about the baby..."

This was so impossibly hard for me to do, but I felt like it was the right thing for everyone. Maybe it would all blow up in my face, Britt could get hurt, I could get hurt, I was testing the fates here, but if it didn't go badly then we were one step closer to happiness.

"Okay. Lets go to Ohio." Britt finally answered.


	22. Blessings

It was six-thirty in the morning and Kurt had just pulled up in his car outside our building. Once Brittany and I had decided to make the trip back home this weekend, I'd spent almost an hour begging Lady to let me borrow the Audi. Before he agreed, I had to make a solemn blood oath not to do any damage to his baby, promise to take him and Blaine to dinner at Daniel, swear to be nice to him for a whole week (he wanted a  _month_ , that was totally impossible) and invoke his sympathies for tired, pregnant Britt.

"You know the deal Satan, wreck my car, you come to two Broadway shows a day for six months. A fate worse than death for you." Kurt threatened as he opened the passenger door for Britt.

"Nice that you're more worried about the car's well being than your friends'. I see how it is."

"Oh shut up. Go, good luck, have fun." He was smiling like an idiot.  _Okay, it's Ohio, not Paris, relax. That man loved Lima too much for his own good!_

We were three hours into the trip, and I had finished my fourth cup of coffee when Brittany woke up from the slumber she'd been in since we crossed the Triborough Bridge. In a dreamy trance, she shifted her position so that she was facing me, snatched up my hand that had been resting on her thigh and kissed my fingertips. I looked at her out of the corner of my eye, and she gave me a tiny smile.

"Good sleep?" I asked her.

"It was. Sorry I didn't stay awake to keep you company. Where are we?"

"Pennsylvania. And don't be sorry, neither of us have slept much this week, and you  _need_  to get rest."

"I'm scared." Her voice cracked with the admission.

So was I. After Britt had called Sam's parents to tell her that she was coming to see them, it had taken almost two hours before she stopped crying. They didn't even say anything, besides that they would be happy to see her, and she broke down. When that happened, I started to feel sick, and thought maybe I'd made a mistake even suggesting the trip. But it was done, there was no going back. I just prayed to the God I wasn't sure of that it wouldn't destroy Brittany.

"Hey, listen to me. You have every right to be scared right now, but I want you to repeat what I keep telling you. You need to remember the truth." I needed to be strong for her right now.

"It was a terrible accident. This wasn't my fault. And also, babies are supposed to be happy news." Britt said flatly.

"Like you mean it Britt. You  _know_  I don't lie, and I believe it with everything in me."

"I wish  _I_  believed it." She murmured.

There was a rest stop just ahead, and I pulled the car into the parking lot. I couldn't properly have this conversation while driving, I needed to be able to look in Britt's eyes and totally focus on her. God, I really became a mess when she was upset, I needed to get it under control. Brittany didn't make a move to get out of the car, so I walked over to her side and opened the door. She didn't resist when I grabbed her hand to help her out, but her motions were too listless for me to feel comfortable with.

"Brittany." I put my hand on her cheek and held it there until she looked into my eyes. "In a few hours, this is all going to be over. The hardest part is  _always_  the waiting, you know? You are going to be okay, no matter what happens, I  _promise_  you that. And remember when you told me that Sam's family looked like they lost the light in their world? You're going to give them some of that light back."

When I pulled her close to hug me, she pressed her hand against my heart between us.  _Keep yourself connected_ , I communicated to her silently. We could do anything as long as we were together, and once there was some kind of closure, my Brittany wouldn't feel so sad, and I wouldn't feel so unsure of myself. She hadn't affirmed that she felt confident yet, but as I held her and her breathing slowed, I knew she would be okay.

* * *

We were sitting on the sofa in the Evans' house, and it felt like we were inside a fishbowl. Penelope Evans scurried back and forth from the kitchen to the living room, dropping dishes of food on the coffee table with each trip. Her husband, John, sat in a recliner across from the couch Brittany and I were on, his eyes flicking back and forth between us (and, I noticed, to my scarf covered neck and Britt's belly). He had it all figured out, it was obvious. Finally, Brittany caught Sam's mom by the arm, looked into her eyes and asked her to sit down.

While Mrs. Evans settled herself on the love seat, I stole a glance at Britt. It was killing me not to touch her right now, to press my palm against her bouncing knee and calm her down, but neither of us would be disrespectful like that. I was a totally bitch and even  _I_  knew that wasn't cool. Brittany caught my eye out of the side of hers, and I reminded her silently that it was going to be okay.

"So this is the famous Santana, huh?" Mr. Evans stared. "The one who wrote the song?"

"I'm a song writer, yes." Then I realized what he was talking about.  _Oh, God!_  "I- yeah, that was me, sorry, I was-"

"You don't have to apologize. Our Sammy thought that it was pretty funny." His eyes misted a little. "What was it, Salmon Lips?"

"Itwastroutymouth." I mumbled. This  _wasn't_ happening.

"Trouty Mouth." He repeated. "Right!"

"Brittany, dear." Mrs. Evans finally spoke, interrupting my discomfort. "How are you doing?"

"I'm okay, Penny, thank you. I'm-uh-I'm living in New York now and teaching dance. And I..."

_Shit_. She was crying. Brittany was crying and I didn't know what to do without being able to touch her.  _Look at me_ , I thought-signaled to her, and a few seconds later, she did. Those beautiful blue eyes were spilling over and she was trembling. I grit my teeth and balled my hands into fists at my sides.  _Fuck_. I  _really_  shouldn't have done this. With all of my strength, I gave her the most loving look I could manage and tried to smile at her. Sam's mom was looking at her too, and I saw the realization hit her face.

"Honey. Are you...Is it...?" Mrs. Evans made a sweeping gesture towards Brittany and she nodded, closing her eyes. "Are you okay?"

I was immediately suffocated by all of the emotion in the room. Sam's mother nearly threw herself on top of Brittany, and was hugging her, crying, touching her belly. Standing up to give them (and myself) some space, I walked over to the other side of the room and saw pictures of Sam all along the side table. My throat started to feel tight as I swept my eyes over them. He wasn't a villain, he had just been one in my story. I mean seriously, the guy became a stripper to feed his family when he was still a  _kid_ , I had to give him credit for that.

"You're more than just her friend, aren't you?" The voice came from behind me, and it wasn't menacing. I struggled to answer as I turned around to look at Sam's father. "My son and I had a great relationship. He told me a lot of things."

"I..." I stood there pretty dumbfounded.

"It's okay, Santana. I'm not judging. Penny, the kids and I, we all love Brittany. We don't have much money, but I'd like to do what I can to help her. More than that though, I'd really like to be sure that someone's taking care of her in her situation, you understand?"

"Yes, I do. And I will."

We stood there silent for a moment, and I was extremely afraid that there were going to be tears. This was all a little much for me. Britt was locked in the older woman's arms, and they were crying and speaking softly.  _That_  was hard enough. What would I do if this tall blonde man started crying? Or worse, if  _I_  did?

"Sam liked you, you know?"

" _What?_ " I gasped, then looked down, embarrassed by my reaction.

"Yeah, he actually did impressions of you. That was high praise, coming from him."

"Or he thought I was a raging bit- um, beeyotch."

"He  _may_  have thought that too." Mr. Evans smiled. "But he thought you were very funny."

"I'm sorry you lost your son." I stumbled over my words. So cliche, but it was the truth.

"So am I. So am I."

Rejoining Britt and Mrs. Evans, I got a glimpse of a genuine smile on my girlfriend's face. She had just made these people so unbelievably happy, and I felt so much pride in her bravery. When I sat back beside her, Brittany rested her hand on my knee and looked shyly at the Evans. They knew, and they were okay with it. God, these people were  _really_  nice. I definitely wasn't used to that from anyone besides Britt.

Searching through my bag, I pulled out an envelope and handed Britt a copy of the latest sonogram. I was constantly making copies of those things, but it was a comforting feeling that so many people loved the baby already. The last time I'd gone to Brooklyn, I'd laughed at Rachel for hanging a copy on the fridge, but then thought it was even more of a riot when she told me that  _Finn_  had been the one to hang it there. Poor guy wanted height conflicted babies something bad, and I made a note to myself that giants sometimes steal them, and to watch ours closely around him.

"So perfect." Mrs. Evans whispered reverently. "I can't wait to meet this little one."

"Oh don't worry. I'm  _sure_  we'll be making lots of trips to Ohio, my mom's already pretty much made it the law." Brittany smiled.

We stayed for another hour and both of Sam's parents promised Brittany that she had no reason for guilt, and that they wanted all of the happiness in the world for her. When I finally saw Britt jiggling her legs, I knew that she was exhausted and we still had more than two hours to drive before we got to Lima. Though I'd been better about the dark, I figured I'd better not risk it by driving at night, and I gently made a motion for us to go. We said our goodbyes, and just as we were walking out the door, Mrs. Evans caught my hand.

"Thank you, Santana." She said softly.

"For what?"

"Brittany told me it was your idea to come here, that she was scared to do it. Being a part of this baby's life means the world to me. And you girls are going to be wonderful."

"Thank you, Mrs. Evans."

"Call me Penny, please. We are family now."

Settling ourselves in the car, I think Britt and I  _both_  felt an incredible weight lifted from our shoulders. She rested her head on my shoulder as I pulled put of the driveway, and I grabbed her hand and kissed the inside of her wrist. Before I made it down the block, she was sleeping in a way I hadn't seen her sleep since she came to New York. They had taken Brittany's guilt away, and given us both their blessing, and I truly believed that it was going to be okay.


	23. Ready As I'll Ever Be

The sun was starting to set when we arrived in the Pierce's driveway, and I almost had to physically restrain Brittany so she wouldn't jump out of the moving car. Susan peeked through the curtains from inside the house, and then opened the door and sprinted down the porch steps. I hardly blinked my eyes after parking the car before Britt was out on the pavement, wrapped in her mom's embrace. It was impossible for me to not to have a ridiculous smile on my face watching them, they were just too freaking adorable.

"Santana!" Susan called, still holding Britt close to her. "Don't just stand there staring, come and give me a hug!"

"Miss me, Mama P?" I smiled, letting her pull me into a group hug with Britt. The Pierces were all huggers, and I used to constantly roll my eyes in protest against it. Secretly (okay,  _not_  so secretly, they all knew) I loved every second of it.

"Of course I missed you. Look at you!" I didn't miss the flicker of her eyes towards my throat, but the love in Susan's eyes kept me from feeling uncomfortable. "You're so grown up and even more beautiful."

"Mom!" Brittany giggled. "Are you trying to steal my woman?"

Susan swatted at Britt and she broke into a huge grin. The front door swung open and Britt's sister Lizzie, bounded out toward us, shrieking, with her father Stephen not far on her heels. As expected, they joined in the ridiculously large hug, with Lizzie's arms cradling Brittany's belly. I couldn't believe that the little girl who used to constantly interrupt our sweet lady kisses was a senior in high school already. God, time moved too fast.

When the love-fest finally broke up, we went inside for a feast that could have fed twenty people. Between mouthfuls of incredible mashed potatoes and roast chicken, Britt and I filled her family in on the drive, the Evans and everything in New York. Lizzie talked about her plans to go to California after graduation, the Glee Club ("Mr. Schu pretty much  _pissed_  himself with excitement when he heard about you two being back together!") and her new boyfriend. It was a beautifully normal family dinner.

"San." Britt whispered as Susan was putting a chocolate pudding pie on the table. "Look."

"Oh my God, B." She wanted me to see it first, an actual tiny foot was sticking out just above Britt's belly button.

"Look!" She then shouted, jumping up from her seat and lifting up her shirt.

Only in the Pierce house was it  _completely_  acceptable to nearly disrobe at the dinner table. When everyone saw what Britt was showing off, there were more shrieks and of course, more hugs.

Brittany was yawning as we finally walked up the stairs for bed, and my arm slipped around her waist. Opening the door to her bedroom, I smiled when I realized it was still exactly the same as it had been when we were in high school. Britt collapsed on the bed almost immediately while I opened the suitcase and tossed our pajamas out. Before I could change, she reached out her arms for me and I snuggled up beside her on the bed.

"I haven't told you all day how much I love you." Her lips pressed against my chin.

"Do you now?" I moved my forehead against hers and looked into her sparkly blue eyes. "Well, I love you more every single day."

"I'm really glad we came back here, Santana. Today was a really amazing day, I just feel so much better than I did this morning. Thank you for having this idea."

"Well, I know you're the genius, but I do tend to have a good one every once in a while."

She was so happy again, I wanted to savor every second of it. We ended up falling asleep in our clothes, with the lights on, wrapped in just each other.

* * *

There was knocking somewhere in the distance, but it took me a minute to pull myself from my sleep. When I finally peeked open my eyes, my fuzzy mind took entirely too long to process where I was. Brittany's bedroom, back in Lima,  _right_. Britt had her head buried in the crook of my arm, and her breathing gave away that she wasn't actually sleeping anymore either. Someone knocked on the door again, and I figured I should answer and make the noise stop.

"Come in!" I called out

"Do you guys have clothes on? I really don't need to see that again if you don't." It was Lizzie, I guess we really  _did_  scar the kid.

"Why would I tell you to come in if we were naked Liz? Just open the door."

"Shhhh." Britt mumbled against my body as her sister climbed up on the bed. "I'm sleeping."

"You're not sleeping if you're talking!" Lizzie cried out, sounding exactly like she did when she was ten. "Mom said that she's making chocolate chip pancakes for you Britt."

I felt Brittany's eyes pop open against my chest and she rolled over with a big smile on her face. If someone wanted to get me out of bed before I was ready, it took coffee or sex, for Britt, all it took was the mention of some form of sugar. When she sat up, Lizzie shot her a huge smile and got down from the bed.

"This is so awesome, Santana makes me eat egg whites and spinach! I still don't think breakfast is supposed to be salty." Britt stuck out her tongue at me.

"You do not get to complain about the eggs, remember our deal? You invented breakfast dessert and promised me you wouldn't whine about eating the healthy stuff! Not that it really counts if you eat two donuts after having five bites of the eggs."

"Man, when did you get so  _old_  Santana?" Lizzie complained. "Next thing you know it'll be prune juice and shredded wheat. Should I go downstairs and start pre-chewing your food for you?"

"Shut it, Shirley Temple!" I smirked at Liz. "I'm trying to keep your sister from giving birth to a five-pound sack of sugar. Do you really want to be showing off pictures of a Domino bag? I, for one, prefer a cute, snugly baby."

"Santana Lopez, you just said  _cute, snugly baby_. You really have gone soft." She shot me one last smug look and skipped out of the room. Damn, I forgot how much of a wiseass that kid was!

After we had breakfast (and I tried to control my groans as Britt squirted half a can of whipped cream on her pancakes) Brittany and I finally showered and changed out of our day old clothes. Susan was itching to take us shopping, and when she was excited, it was just like her daughter- no one could ever say no. When we got in the car, Lizzie snickered when neither of us wanted the front seat, instead sitting snuggled together in the back with our pinkies linked and resting on Britt's belly. It felt just like high school, you know, except for one of us carrying a cauliflower sized baby in her uterus, and the other carrying a much larger amount of emotional baggage.

* * *

It was late in the day when we left the Lima Mall, and as much as I would have liked to stay with Britt's family, I'd promised my mom that we would spend a night there. She and I were still working on fixing our relationship, and although the thought of going back home made me squirm, I was going to do it. Susan was promising Britt that they would be in New York as soon as the baby came, and Stephen was hugging her like he would never see her again.

It was Lizzie who came and squeezed me before the others could call me over.  _You may be a softy, but I'm glad she has you back_ , the girl whispered, before dragging me over to the rest of her family. After an eternity worth of hugs, Stephen put our things in the trunk (including, I might add, three bags of baby clothes- between Berry, Hummel and Susan, this kid had a bigger wardrobe than their moms did combined!) and we gave them all one final kiss goodbye.

"Are you ready?" Britt asked me, while buckling her seatbelt.

"As I'll ever be, I guess."

* * *

The drive to to my parent's house was silent. Britt was drawing hearts on my wrist with her thumb, and I was caught up in my thoughts. For the past two days, I'd been so wrapped up in worrying about Akron, then in all the happiness at the Pierce's that I hadn't realized how anxious I was about going back home. Since the attack, I'd been back only once, and I had been drinking so much, I honestly don't remember most of the trip.

Britt was just about dragging me up the driveway when we got to the house, and I pretended the suitcase was much heavier than it actually was to slow her down. On the porch, she pressed her lips against mine and squeezed both of my hands. No words, just touch. It was exactly what I needed to make me put the key in the lock.

"No, you will  _not_  have me wait another week!" My mother's voice rang out from the kitchen. "My client has been waiting for a check for three months, and you  _will_  wire the money immediately."

I rolled my eyes at Brittany before peeking through the threshold of the kitchen.

"I expect to hear that it's been received by the end of today. If not, you can be sure that we will sue you for breach of contract."  _Click_. She had hung up the phone on whoever she was talking to. "Girls!"

"Hi Mari." Brittany spoke first, and I caught her lowering her eyes shyly.

"I'm so glad you came,  _both_  of you." My mother kissed Brittany's cheek and looked over to me.

"Hello  _mija_ , how are you?"

"I'm good Mamí. Where's Papí? Isn't he supposed to be home tonight?"

"He's still at the hospital, but he is meeting us for dinner." She stepped over to me and put her hands on either side of my face before kissing the top of my head. "You look so healthy  _mi amor_. I've missed you so much."

I was struggling to keep my guard up. The truth was, I'd really missed my mom too, but I was still having difficulty with forgiveness. She looked at me with the same eyes as mine and I gave her a small smile to let her know that I was still trying. I caught Brittany's eye and she reassured me that it was okay to wrap my arms around my mom.  _Damn all this hugging._

Mami, Britt and I were sitting in a corner table at BreadStix waiting for my father to arrive. I was hungry, tired and extremely irritated at his lateness. Seriously, his only child comes home for the first time in years and he can't leave the hospital for an hour? This was how it had  _always_  been with him, I wasn't sure why it still surprised me. Brittany and my mom were talking, and I tried to pay attention but my mind kept drifting. Britt squeezed my hand and when I looked at her, she was holding a breadstick an inch from my face.

"You haven't had any breadsticks! When we were in high school, you used to eat them by the wheelbarrow full." She grinned and I opened my mouth for her to feed me one.

"Still so good." I mumbled with my mouth full and I could hear my mom chuckle.

"So what's going on with work?" Mamí asked me.

"The album is done, and definitely not my best work. The kid annoys the crap out of me, so I'm waiting for the list of things I'm  _sure_  he will want rewritten."

"Then what's the plan?" She wasn't interrogating me, but my defenses immediately went up.

"I don't know." I snipped. "My next priority is Britts and the baby, I'll deal with the rest after that. I don't need to pick up another album right now."

While Brittany told my mom about getting a contract at the dance school, I retreated back into myself. Why couldn't I just communicate with my parents (okay, with  _anyone_ ) like a normal person? I was so sick of fighting with myself. Brittany was suddenly waving frantically, and I looked up and my father was standing beside the table. After exchanging greetings and bristly cheek kisses, he sat down on my left side.

"You look well  _niña_." He told me. God, I was  _so_  sick of hearing that.

"Thank you Papí. Busy day today?"

"Always is. Are you all ready to order? Should we start with some wine?"

I don't know who's head turned around faster, Brittany's or my mother's, but they both had the same look of pure anger. The color Britt's eyes turned was actually frightening, I'd never seen her like that. To soothe her, I squeezed her thigh and rubbed it with my thumb. We  _had_  to get used to people offering me alcohol, even if my o _wn father_  should have been less insensitive.

"Javier!" My mother snapped, and the recognition of his mistake crossed his eyes.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry." He stuttered before I cut him off.

"It's _fine_ , lets just order, please." I insisted, really not wanting to get into  _that_ discussion in the middle of a restaurant.

After stuffing myself with spaghetti and meatballs and more breadsticks than should ever be consumed (in an effort to avoid as much conversation as possible) I was exhausted. My father went back to the hospital as I waved off his apologies, and the three of us stopped for (of  _course_ ) ice cream on the way home. When we finally got back to the house, I went upstairs to shower while Britt stayed down at the kitchen table talking to Mamí. I let the hot water soak over my body, leeching out all the anxiety that was beginning to overwhelm me. My family was absolutely exhausting.

I woke up early the next morning and slipped slowly from Brittany's grasp. At the end of the hall, I could hear my mother in the bedroom, so I walked down and knocked on the door. She called for me to come in and I sat down beside her on the bed like I had as a little girl. Mamí looked at me sadly, and instinctively started brushing her fingers through my hair.

" _Mija_ , I'm sorry about-"

"Please, I don't want to-"

"No, Santana, we need to talk about these things. Me, you, and especially your Papí, we don't do well with feelings, and we act before we think. He loves you, you know that, right?"

"Yes." I sighed, I  _did_ know, even if he usually had a terrible way of showing it.

"I spoke to him on the phone last night, he feels terrible about the wine thing, and he's so happy to see you hurting less. And he's thrilled about Brittany. He's always had a special soft spot for her."

"Everyone does. She's Brittany, you know? It's kind of impossible not to love her."

"That's true. But he, and me as well, loves her because of what she does to you. I know we have a lot unsaid between us, and I know I've screwed up, but that girl gets your guard down. She saved you when none of the rest of us could. You're my whole world Santana, I love you." She was getting weepy. "If I ever lost you..."

I found myself crying and shushing my mother, burying my face in her neck. It was hard for me, we  _never_  spoke much about loving one another, it was just something families did, and there was never a need to say it out loud. I didn't realize how much I'd been needing to hear it. For once, the closeness didn't feel like it was suffocating me, it actually felt good.

"I love you too Mami."

"I have something for you, but I want to wait until Brittany is awake."

As if on cue, I could hear Britt shuffling her way into the bathroom. I could picture her in her flannel duck pants and one of my t-shirts that she  _insisted_  upon stretching out with her belly, rubbing her eyes and pulling her hair on top of her head. When I heard the sink stop running and the door open, I called out to her.

"Britt-Britt! We're in here, come in!"

"Morning." She mumbled, looking exactly as I pictured her. No one missed the huge smile that broke across my face when she sat down between my legs.

"Hey beautiful. Good morning baby." I cooed, tapping my fingers against her belly. "You two are stretching another one of my shirts, I see."

"We like to feel you close to us." She pouted, and I knew I could forget  _ever_ mentioning that again.

"Can I...?" Mamí started timidly, reaching out her hand.

"Of course you can!" Britt was the rare pregnant woman who actually  _liked_  having people touch her. "You can talk too, if you want."

Britt lifted up her shirt (she  _swore_  that the baby could feel it more without the fabric in between) and my mother pressed both hands against her. I felt like I couldn't catch my breath waiting to see the movement, and my eyes darted between Mamí's face and Brittany's. Their eyes were locked on each other, and I felt like the Grinch at the end of the movie, when his heart grows three sizes.

"Little Bean, wake up and meet your  _abuela_." Brittany was tapping furiously on her stomach, and I felt the tears pricking my eyes again. I kind of thought that Britt trying to speak Spanish was the most adorable thing ever. "Santana, talk. It always works when you do it!"

"So much for your magic baby telepathy, huh babe?" I smirked. "Baby, listen to your mama and stop being a lazy bones."

I continued talking until I saw the familiar ripple work it's way down Britt's stomach. My mother's hands were shaking and she was crying with a smile across her face. One of my hands immediately moved to cover one of hers, and Brittany's covered her other. When the baby stopped moving, Mamí moved her hands away, and looked at us with genuine adoration.

"Okay." She finally spoke, wiping tears from her face. "I wanted to give this to the baby. It's...well I don't know what your plans are, or if there's something from your parents Brittany, but I've been holding onto this since you were a baby, Santana, and I just thought..."

"Oh, Maribel." Brittany whispered, opening the small box she was handed. "This was Santana's?"

"Her Christening cross." Mamí told her, and she tripped on her words before saying anything else.

"Thank you." I was genuinely grateful. Though I still wasn't sure what I even  _believed_  in, I knew this was something extremely special to my mother, and that was enough for the time being.

* * *

We had to leave just after breakfast to make it back to New York by dark. Mamí hugged Britt and me goodbye, and promised to visit as soon as the baby was born. The weight on my shoulders felt so much lighter than it had been. Sure, my father was still who he was, but I knew Mamí was right about him having the same troubles I did with words. When we reached the highway, I was surprised Brittany was still awake, and still staring at me.

"What?" I asked, grinning ridiculously at her.

"Nothing. Just appreciating the view." She grinned. "I'm glad you're smiling."


	24. We Are a Team

"Remind me again why we invited Quinn over tonight." I complained as Britt walked in the door from work and flopped down on the couch.

"Hello to you too." She mumbled, closing her eyes.

"I'm sorry babe, hi." I kneeled beside the couch and kissed her nose and then her belly. "How are you feeling?"

"So tired." Brittany tangled one of her hands in my hair, the only affection she was capable of in her state of exhaustion.

"I can call Quinn and cancel..."

"We aren't canceling on her. I know you haven't seen her since her encounter with Snix, but you're going to be fine. Besides, I really want to see her." She didn't even have to actually make the pout, I could  _hear_  it in her voice.

That's the problem with soul mates. If it were anyone else in the world, I could have convinced them that I wanted to cancel our dinner plans because I was tired, or  _they_  were tired, or there was some kind of super-storm brewing and it wouldn't be safe to have guests. Not Britt, she could read my anxiety from a mile away. She had stayed so much closer to Quinn than I had after high school (okay, after our ill-advised drunken sex) and she wanted us to make more than five minute phone conversation amends. I understood, it just didn't make me feel any more excited about the idea.

"I'm going to finish dinner." I told Britt, but she didn't hear me, she'd already fallen asleep.

We had been home from Ohio for six days, and it was the day I had finally decided to unpack and clean the apartment. Finn had come over for the baby furniture delivery while we were gone, and the room was  _finally_  done. One more thing checked off of my compulsive  _Get Ready For the Baby_ list. Awesome. There was a pot of sauce on the stove and a salad in the fridge. Really, I was becoming ridiculously domestic, who would have thought?

I was being totally creepy and staring at a sleeping Britt when the doorbell rang. She'd been asleep for an hour, and didn't even stir from the noise. I considered waking her up, but I figured Quinn's loud mouth would probably do the trick anyway. Walking like I was headed to my own execution, I went to open the door.

"Hey Stretchmarks!" Of  _course_  I had to start with insults, my strongest armor.

"Oh, we're starting early Satan? Seriously, it's been  _eight years_  and you still can't come up with anything better than that? And I think you're pretty well aware that I don't  _actually_  have stretch marks. Remember?" Quinn snickered and looked me up and down.

"Hmm, can't remember, blocked the memory of your naked body out of my head." I eyed her back and gestured over to the couch. "Britt's sleeping."

"Wow." Quinn looked over at Brittany. "Look how pregnant she is."

"Yeah, that's kind of what happens."

"Shhhh." Britt murmured from the couch.

"Look big mouth, you woke her up!" I rolled my eyes.

Brittany twisted herself into a sitting position, and I grinned when I saw her messy hair and her shirt bunched up. Just woken up Britt was definitely one on my favorite looks. Quinn smirked at me when she caught my sappy expression, and I mock-shoved her. She ignored me and went to fawn over Brittany while I went into the kitchen to pull the garlic bread out of the oven.

"How have you been feeling, Britt? I feel like I haven't really talked much to you."

"I'm okay. Just the usual, complete exhaustion and nasty cramps in my thighs. Do you want to see the baby's room? Finn, Kurt and Blaine did the entire thing!"

"Of course I do!" Quinn stood up and offered a hand to Brittany.

"Santana, are you coming?" Britt asked.

"No, go ahead. Dinner will be ready in five minutes."

The two of them went into the small bedroom and I turned my attention to draining the pasta and taking dishes out of the cabinet. Quinn was still pissed at me, joking around or not, that much was obvious. Crazy Lucy Q does  _not_  forgive easily, especially when someone she cares about is threatened, and I'd insulted her husband  _and_  hurt Britt. No matter how much time had passed, in her eyes, I was probably as good as the  _actual_  Satan.

When the food was on the table, I went over to the entrance to the new bedroom. Quinn was standing with one hand on the crib rail, and Britt was across from her. There was an unreadable look on Quinn's face, and when I looked to Britt, she quickly ( _too_  quickly) broke into a smile.  _What's up?_  I asked her with my eyes.  _Nothing. Just drop it, okay_? Yeah, it was most definitely not nothing, but I would drop it. For the time being. Taking Britt's hand, we went and sat down, Brittany on my right and Quinn across from her.

"So Q." I started, breaking the silence while Britt dug into her pasta. "How's Arch?"

"Fantastic, actually. He just got a big promotion, so  _we_  may be joining  _Brittany_  in having a little one of our own soon." I didn't miss the rise in Britt's eyebrow, but I didn't make an issue of it.

"That's great news for  _our_  baby." I tried to smile sweetly, but that wasn't exactly my strong suit. "They will be close in age, I'm sure. You are so  _lucky_  that you get pregnant so easily."

"Anyway,  _Brittany_ , have  _you_  come up with any names?"

Okay,  _that_  pissed me off. She was totally trying to bait me into freaking out over the baby again. Britt's hand clamped down just above my knee, and I could feel the inside of my lip bleeding from my own teeth. I was sick of this dance we had been doing since high school. We cut each other down at any opportunity, and then went back to this twisted version of friendship. But we were adults, and she was jabbing me directly where she knew my sore spot was.

"Cut the shit, Fabray. Why don't you just come out and say what you need to say? I didn't think you were such a wuss."

"This from the girl who's been making backhanded jabs about my teen pregnancy since 2009? You can dish it out, but you can't take it, huh Santana?"

"My  _hilarious_  comments don't have some kind of weird undertone to them. We all  _know_  you had a baby when you were sixteen, it's not a secret. Your comments about  _'Brittany's baby'_  are obviously meant to tell me you're still pissed at me, and you think I won't be sticking around."

"You're right. I am. Because I've watched the two of you at this for how long now?" We had now both stood up and were standing just about nose to nose. "You do what's best for  _you_ , and you disregard Brittany's feelings. Then you come crawling back, and she forgives you."

"Quinn." Brittany warned from her chair.

"No, Britt, it's okay, let her say it. She supposedly majored in psychology- kind of funny though considering how fucking  _crazy_  she is. Obviously she knows  _all_  about relationships, especially considering she fucked her way to that degree. I mean, no one should forgive  _each other_ , right? And maybe every other part of our relationship should be disregarded because she saw five fucking minutes of me at my worst. She's the expert."  _Don't slap her. Don't slap her. Don't slap her._

"I'm sorry that I give a shit about my friend and don't want to see her get hurt. You  _know_  what you're capable of." Quinn hissed.

"So you start ripping into me where you think it hurts? Well guess what, Fabray, that shit might work if I was still insecure about things with Britt and the baby, but  _we've dealt with it_. I know what's  _mine_ and your head games aren't going to screw it up. That shit might have been okay in high school, but not anymore! Don't you come into  _my_  house and think you can play your little games with me. You've seen the wrath of me before, and don't think I won't show you it again."

"Enough!" Brittany cut in, and she was squeezing my left hand, obviously sensing my itch to slap Quinn harder than I ever had. "This needs to stop between you two, it's been going on for  _far_ too long. You're not fighting over the top of the pyramid anymore, you're fighting about  _my_  life. Quinn, you  _aren't_ in this relationship, you  _don't_  know everything that goes on. But you  _do_  know that Santana's been through more than anyone should ever have to go through. And you  _never_  get to cut her down for being afraid. I get that you're trying to protect me, but I can protect  _myself_. Are we clear?"

Quinn nodded but Britt cut her off before she could speak.

"There is no more Team Santana and Team Brittany.  _We_  are a team, and anyone who has a problem with it can stay out of our lives. I love you Quinn, you've always been a good friend to me, but Santana is the love of my life. I will  _always_  pick her over anyone else."

Whoa. For a split second, my fury was replaced with desire for forceful Brittany, and I felt a squeeze in my heart as she squelched another of my insecurities by promising to  _always_ choose me. She stood beside me with her fingers interlaced with mine, and was giving Quinn a stare down that I could only wish to give. Quinn couldn't feel Britt's nails digging into her flesh, like they were into mine, so she didn't know that she was actually trembling where she stood. I got a little nervous, she  _didn't_  need the stress of the anger. And she was right. This shit really did need to stop.

"And Santana."  _Oh shit, I was in trouble too?_  "No more Sixteen and Pregnant comments to Quinn. In case you forgot, she's not the only one here who's made a mistake like that. And it's mean, we are all sick of hearing it."  _Fuck. Right._  I needed to stop with that. "Now please, you  _know_  I hate yelling and I'd really like to finish dinner so we can have dessert."

Quinn and I both looked at each other and couldn't help but smile at Brittany. She was probably the only person in the world who could go from a screaming rage to asking for dessert. And I had to give Quinn some credit. I appreciated that she loved Brittany and wanted to protect her, I just didn't want her starting shit with me to do it or playing games with my relationship. Maybe neither of us were fully ready to let our decade long feud go, but when I locked eyes with her, I knew we would drop the bickering for Britt's sake.

Before I sat back down at the table, I went into the bathroom to compose myself. While splashing water on my face, I actually let a few tears escape. God, I  _really_  hated when rage consumed me, and had Britt not intervened, there probably would have been a full on Lima Heights beat down in our kitchen.  _Get it together, Lopez_ , I told myself before drying off and going back to a much calmer table.

* * *

After an uneventful remainder of the evening, Quinn hugged both of us goodbye (while whispering a final  _don't screw up_  in my ear) and left. While Britt went to shower and finally change out of her dance clothes, I went into the baby's room to sit in the glider and think. There was something so relaxing about rocking myself in that grey and yellow room, and I'd almost fallen asleep in the chair when Britt came in.

"Hey." She smiled.

"Hey yourself. Wanna sit?" Britt came over and sat in the oversized chair, one leg draped over mine. "I'm sorry we upset you before."

"I just hate the fighting. We are all to old for it."

"You're right, I know. What happened in here before that provoked it?"

Brittany was biting her lip and looking at me, obviously conflicted about something. I gave her a look that told her it was okay to say what she had to say, and she suddenly became nervous. She pulled herself up out of the chair, opened the top drawer of the new dresser and pulled something out. With whatever it was concealed in her hand, Britt sat down on the footrest so she was facing me.

"I'm gonna screw this up." She said softly.

"B." I touched my hand to her face. "You could never screw anything up."

"I love you." Britt gushed, and I whispered the words back to her. "Quinn got really scared and kind of mad because I showed her something. Something that I want to give to you. Do you know what Friday is?"

"One hundred days." That's how long it had been since I had my final drink, how long it had been since Britt pulled me out of my downward spiral.

"One hundred days." She repeated. "And I've been so proud of you every single one of those days. God, San, I've been in love with you for almost half of my life, but I've  _never_ loved you more than I do right now. You're so strong, so beautiful, you're just full of all of this awesomeness. I can't get enough of you, ever. You're more important than the air in my lungs."

"Thanks Britt. I-" I was crying, and I could see the tears welling in her eyes.

"This might sound crazy, I mean, if it was anyone else,  _I_  would think they were crazy. But will you do something for me on Friday?"

"You know I would do anything for you, always."

I wasn't sure what she was going to ask. My heart was in my throat, and I was trying to stop the tears that had completely soaked my face and chest. Why was I even crying? I had  _no_  idea. There was just something so emotional about hearing Britt say these things and watching her struggle with the words she had to find to express her love. Then, she turned her hand over, opened her palm and all the air left my body.

"Marry me."

In her hand was the most perfect ring I'd ever seen in my life, one I'd seen so many times before. It was my  _abuela's_  ring. Not my father's mother who hated me, but my mother's mother, who I'd never met. Oh my God, my  _mother_  knew about this! I was struggling to breathe and Britt instinctively grabbed my hand and pressed it to her heart.  _Follow my breathing_. How could I breathe when all of this emotion had taken complete control of my body.

"Yes." It wasn't a word, so much as a breath.

It was the answer that had been in my heart for as long as I'd known the beautiful, perfect blonde woman who was sitting in front of me. My breath was still ragged as she slid the ring onto my left hand. The ring, the one my mother had kept and I'd always loved because on each side of the diamond was a tiny red ruby, Brittany's birthstone. Britt was in my lap on the chair almost instantly and she pressed her lips gently against mine, knowing I needed time to come out of my emotional bubble.

"How...?" I couldn't make sentences.

"Your Mamí. I told her I wanted to marry you and she told me you'd been in love with this ring forever. The rubies..."

"Your birthstone." Okay, progress, I'd strung  _two_  words together.

"Of course this had to be your ring. It was made for you, for us. And knowing that your other  _abuela_  is a part of this, even if you never knew her...well, it felt important to me." Britt was crying now.

"Brittany." I paused and collected myself. "I don't even know how you do the things that you do, or what I ever did to deserve you. My heart hurts with how much I love you. You're right, maybe this is too soon, and maybe we are totally crazy, but I don't care. I don't care what anyone thinks, I just care what my heart feels. I  _know_  I'm going to spend every day of the rest of my life with you, so why not start now?"

"So Friday?" Brittany beamed, her own tears mixing with mine.

"Friday." I affirmed. "Now lets go to bed so I can show you how much I love you."


	25. It Has To Be Perfect

"You're _what?_ " Kurt shrieked as we sat at our usual table at Joseph Leonard for brunch the next morning.

"I can't even believe this!" Rachel joined in on the screaming and grabbed for my left hand. "How? When?  _What?_ "

Rachel Berry was suddenly without words, I'd have to remember how that feat had occurred for the future. Finn wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her back into her chair. Half of the restaurant was staring at us, and Brittany was giggling uncontrollably. Then, everyone was suddenly talking over each other again and I ran my fingers over Britt's belly, content to sit there wordless with a smile on my face.

"Hello!" Kurt snapped. "One of you speak, please."

"Cool it Pretty Boy." I smirked. Britt proposed, I could be the one to tell the story. "Let me just warn you that you're probably all going to go into epic meltdown mode. Like Chernobyl level, so if we can please try and remember that we are in a  _public_ place, that would be really awesome."

"Kurt, she mostly means you." Blaine had his arm on his boyfriend's shoulder, obviously holding him in his seat.

"Excuse  _me_ , I can control myself!" He huffed.

"Bro, Santana's lucky she still has a hand to wear that ring on with the way you and Rachel just attacked her." Finn cut in.

"I'd suggest you  _all_  shut up if you want me to speak.  _Or_  we could just skip the story all together and you can continue freaking out."

Finn and Blaine continued to physically restrain their partners as I launched into the story. Brittany had rested her head on my shoulder and her happiness was radiating into me. She was listening like she wasn't even a part of the story, like it was a fairy tale and she couldn't wait to hear the end. I found it incredibly adorable, not that I didn't find  _everything_  she did incredibly adorable. I waited for the realization of when the wedding would be to hit my friends, and when it did, all hell absolutely broke loose.

"Friday!" Kurt and Rachel screeched at exactly the same time- it always really freaked me out when they did that.

"It can't be  _Friday_!" Kurt was on the edge of hyperventilating. "How am I supposed to plan your perfect wedding in five days? You know I've been waiting for the lesbian wedding of the century for _ever_! This is impossible."

"What are we going to  _do_?" Whoa Rach, save the dramatic overtures for the stage please.

I was actually surprised that she wasn't pissed that our wedding was before hers, but miracles never cease. The two of them began yelping back and forth about flowers, doves, musical performances, and before they reached a fever pitch I raised my hand to quiet them.

"Okay." I was trying to remain calm. "Here's what's going to happen. Britt and I are going to get up, walk outside, and Finn's going to come get us when he and Blaine have calmed you two  _drama queens_  down. Then we can talk like adults. Got it?"

Britt was still giggling when I helped pull her up from her seat. I was trying to act completely annoyed with the situation, but I was holding my own laugh from bursting out too. We walked outside together, and Brittany immediately wrapped her arms around me and eliminated any possible space between us.  _We're getting married in five days_ , I mumbled almost inaudibly against her neck, and she kissed the top of my head. It was really happening. God, I could stay wrapped up in her for every minute of the rest of my life.

"Hey, uh, guys?" Finn came out after a few minutes. "The beasts have been tamed."

"Thanks Finn!" Brittany beamed, and went to pull me back inside.

"Can I just have a second with Finn, Britt-Britt? I'll be right in."

"Of course!" She kissed me before bounding back in the door, and I let my glance linger on her until she was sitting at the table.

"You love her more than I've ever seen a person love someone else." Finn observed. "God Santana, you really got your girl."

"I do. And I did. Listen, I wanted to thank you. These past few months have been so...I don't even know if there are words for it. But you were the one who told me to go for the unicorns and rainbows. You won't hear me say this ever again, but you were right."

Finn pulled me into a ridiculous hug, and I was almost afraid that his gigantic arms would suffocate me. When he finally let me go, he was wearing his dopey Finn-grin that I  _secretly_ thought was kind of awesome. I smiled back, and he put his arm across my shoulders and we walked back to the table.

"What do you say to Brittany and Santana?" Blaine asked Kurt and Rachel. I snorted, he sounded more like Mr. Schu than  _Finn_  usually did.

"Congratulations!" The shouted in unison.  _Still_  so freaky.

"And let's hear the rules." Rachel added. They knew me  _entirely_  too well.

"Okay, rule number one, Friday morning will be just me and Britt. I have something I need to do with her." I started.

"Rule number two." Britt chimed in. "We just want the four of you, Quinn and her husband, our parents and my sister. No flying in Glee Club members from around the world. We know the kind of things that happen at a Glee wedding, and just want this day to be about us,  _not_  about the drama."

 _Quinn might be enough of a problem_ , I added silently.

"But-" Rachel tried to cut in, but Finn gave her a look.

"Berry, Hummel, this is  _our_  gift to you. Trust me, we would just go down to City Hall and do it, but we aren't going to deprive you of planning a wedding." I smirked at them, of  _course_  our wedding was about  _them_ , wasn't everything?

More shrieking, of course, before the two of them dove into Google searches on their iPhones. Kurt had sent out more than twenty emails before our food came, and both of them had hugged us more times than I could count. I gave some  _serious_  credit to Finn and Blaine for dealing with them all day, every day, and both looked at me knowingly. Brittany was smiling contently as she shoveled forkfuls of French toast in her mouth, and I moved my thumb up and down her ring finger.

"Rach." I whispered across the table while the others were occupied. "After we eat, I need you and Finn to come somewhere with me."

"Okay that's fantastic. Kurt wants the two of you split up anyway, he said you're not going home until you both have wedding dresses. And he's taking them with him, because he knows you'll show them to each other the second you're out of his sight."

"Ugh." I groaned. "Remind me again why I thought this was a good idea?"

* * *

Before I let Kurt and Blaine take Brittany away, I took Prancy Smurf aside and threatened him with  _death_  if he didn't let her rest if she got tired. Blaine nodded to me, so I knew he would take care of it. The last thing I wanted to do was spend the first day of our engagement, okay, really,  _any_  day, away from Britt, but there were some battles that I just wasn't going to win. I wrapped my arms around her for one last kiss on the sidewalk before Kurt and Rachel physically dragged us apart and pulled us into their separate cars.

"Where to Mr. Hudson?" Dmitri asked, while I tried not to sulk beside Rachel in the backseat. Finn turned around to look at me for the answer.

"Wherever you bought Rachel's ring. I thought your brother was the one who was good with sparkly things, but you're not so bad yourself." I winked at him.

"You know where, Dmitri."

Twenty minutes later, we were standing in the tiniest jewelry store I'd ever seen, somewhere on the Upper West Side. There were hundreds of rings, and Finn and Rachel and the super-gay salesman began pulling different ones out and showing them to me. I felt like Chandler Bing on  _Friends_  when he went shopping for Monica.  _Ugly ring, ugly ring, ugly ring_.

"Let me see your ring." The jewelry guy,  _Linden_ , finally demanded, after I said no to the fiftieth ring. I held out my hand for him and my heart lurched again while I looked at the gold band. My ring was so perfect, I wanted to find one for Britt that was even  _half_  as awesome.

"Where did she get this?" Linden asked,  _obviously_  realizing just how fantastic it was.

"It was my grandmother's. And Britt's birthday is in July, so the rubies are a pretty cool touch."

"When's your birthday?"

"September."

"Do you have a picture of Brittany?"

Did I have a picture of Britt? I had to laugh, there were probably hundreds of pictures on my phone of her, between the ones I took, and the ones she was constantly taking of herself and setting as my wallpaper. Flipping through, I found one of Brittany laying on the table at her last doctor's appointment with the biggest grin I'd ever seen spread across her face. You couldn't see below her chest in the picture, but I knew that both of her hands rested against the very top of her belly, with my hand underneath. I was lost in my own head and didn't even realize that Linden had walked away.

"Hey Santana!" Rachel called out, breaking me from my daydream. "Are you even looking? You know, I promised Kurt that we would keep things on a very tight schedule and he's expecting us to return you at-"

"Berry." I was exasperated. "Of  _course_  I'm looking. It just needs to be perfect, okay? I'm not giving her a ring that sucks."

"Rach, give her some time. You've never had to do this." Finn interjected. "It took me four hours to pick out yours.

Cue the squeals and excessive kissing with that statement.  _Thank you, Finn, for removing her from my ass_. Linden came back out from wherever he had been, and handed me a black box. When I opened it, I actually gasped a little bit. Platinum band, princess cut solitaire diamond, and when you turned the ring over, on the palm side of the band there were three tiny sapphire stones embedded. Sapphire, my birthstone. Sapphire, like Brittany's eyes right before she... _okay_ , public place, don't want my thoughts going  _there_. It was absolutely the ring. It was just so  _Brittany_.

"Thank you." I whispered. Thank you to Linden, thank you to Finn for bringing me, and thank you to Rachel for not yet driving me crazy enough to kill her.

* * *

"Kurt, you told me yourself that she's not wearing a wedding dress right now! Stop blocking the Goddamn door!" I screamed from the corridor of the dressing room in the bridal vault.

"No way! You think I don't know what you're gonna do if I open the door and there's a mostly naked Brittany behind it? My brain is burning just thinking about it!"

I sank down into an overstuffed chair and shot Kurt evil looks as he flailed about talking to Blaine, Rachel and Finn. We were there for the switch-off, so I literally had five seconds to see Britt before it was my turn to be tortured with trying on dresses. It was weird how the day was fantastic, but also totally sucked at the same time. I couldn't wait to be home alone with Brittany, away from all of the ridiculous insanity.

"Hey." Britt said softly, dropping down onto my lap. She was back in jeans, which meant she was done, and I was one step closer to getting home. "Good luck."

"I'm going to need it. Will you help me hide the body if I strangle Fairy Face?"

"Hmmm. Considering you hardly let me pick up a newspaper, I'm not sure dragging dead bodies is the best idea." God, it was really impossible for me to love her any more.

"Point taken." I smiled as her lips met mine. "I got you something."

"What did you get me?" Her voice bubbled with excitement as she pretended that she really had no clue where I'd gone.

"Just wanted to return a favor."

"I  _love_  it when you return favors."  _Wanky_.

I pulled the box out of my bag and slid Britt's ring onto her finger. She looked over the ring quickly, before kissing me until I couldn't breathe. When she was finished, she intertwined the fingers of our ringed hands and stuck her own hand to my lips and mine to hers. I stared into her beautiful blue eyes and then heard a camera go off.

"Pictures last longer." Kurt chuckled. "Now remove yourselves from each other so I can get Santana's sexy Latina ass into a wedding dress."

Way to ruin a moment, Hummel. Every. Single. Time.

* * *

Turns out, trying on wedding dresses is even  _more_  annoying than pretty much anything else in the entire world. It becomes even  _worse_ when you have to find a dress than covers the hideous scars that stretch across most of the top of your body. Lady Face might have annoyed me in every way possible, but at  _least_ he was good about finding dresses in cuts that actually worked for me. I was surprised he wasn't taking pictures for some kind of article:  _Wedding Dress Shopping for Everyone, Kurt Hummel Dresses Very Pregnant and Grotesquely Disfigured Brides_.

 ** _How's it going, almost-wifey_** **?**  I smiled when the text from Britt popped up on the screen of my phone.

 **_The police might be on their way, I'm hiding in the dressing room_ ** **.**

**_Stop! If you go to jail, how can I do that thing you love so much when you get home?_ **

**_Which one? ;-)_ **

"Satan! Stop sexting Brittany!" Kurt yelled from the other side of the door.

"I'm not sexting!"  _Yet_. "Shut up."

"I can hear your phone, and if you aren't doing it yet, I'm sure it will only be a matter of time." Damn, how does he  _do_  that?

Tossing the phone to the side, even though I  _really_  wanted to see Britt's response, I unzipped another garment bag and carefully stepped into the dress. I silently opened the door so Kurt could zip me up, and then I turned to look in the mirror. Okay. Wow. It was a ridiculously beaded and lacy mermaid cut dress that covered my chest and came up around my neck. And it had a freaking  _bow_. It was everything that I  _didn't_  want in a wedding dress, and I was absolutely in love with it.

"That's the one." I was surprised that the words came from Blaine, not Kurt.

"Oh my God!" Porcelain shrieked (couldn't the shrieking  _end_  for the day? I'd had entirely too much of it!) "Santana, that's your wedding dress. It's perfect. Brittany is absolutely going to  _freak out_. Someone needs to keep them apart at the ceremony or they're going to rip each other's clothes off."

"Someone has been thinking entirely too much about Britts and me having sex today, Fairy Gay-mother. I'm beginning to think you  _like_  it!" Kurt made gagging noises as soon as the words were out of my mouth and I went back to staring at myself in the mirror. Yeah, it was  _definitely_  the dress.

* * *

After Kurt forced me through shoe, veil and jewelry selection, I escaped from his clutches and took a cab back to the apartment. It was quiet when I opened the door, and there was a pizza box on the table. Next to the box there was a note written in the blue crayons we kept by the message pads-  ** _Wake me up after you eat...so I can too._** My skin flushed immediately, and I scarfed down a slice of the pizza without reheating it and went into the bedroom.

Britt was lying on top of the covers (she always  _refused_  to take naps under the comforter, she felt like that was only for nighttime) wearing sweats and a shirt that was formerly mine, before it became too stretched out. Her hand lay across her forehead, and I knew there was absolutely no way I could wake her up, as much as I wanted to.

Looking over at the clock, I saw it was only 7:14. It was June, so the sky was still light and I pulled down the blackout shades. After getting myself ready for bed (so what if it wasn't even 8:00, I was tired too!) I grabbed the extra comforter from the closet and lay down beside Britt, wrapping my arms and the blanket around her. Again, I grabbed her left hand with mine and looked down on them and smiled. There really would never be anything in the world that made me happier than being in bed with my gorgeous soon-to-be wife.

"I love you." Britt murmured in her sleep and I whispered the words right back.


	26. For Always

"We're getting married today!" Brittany squealed, bouncing up and down on our bed.

"Mmmm. Babe, what time is it?" I mumbled sleepily, still keeping my eyes closed.

"7:15. We need to get up."

I tried to roll over and cover my head with the pillow, but Britt quickly straddled me so I couldn't. My eyes squeezed more tightly shut, and she began literally trying to  _pry_  them open with her fingers. It was fruitless to complain, each whimper was met with a wet kiss on a different part of my body, and I could feel myself beginning to get heated. Brittany finally had me awake, but when I began tugging at the waistband of her panties, she playfully smacked my hand and quickly backed away.

"Nope." She smirked, climbing off of me and getting out of bed. "You know the rules, no sex until  _after_  the wedding,"

"Britt-Britt." I pleaded. "It's not fair to wake me up like that and then deny me!"

"You know as well as I do that it will make it so much better tonight. Now come on. You  _really_ need to get out of bed."

Both of Britt's hands were on mine, and she knew I'd get up before I let her pull me out. Reluctantly, I swung my legs over the side of the bed and stood up. My eyes caught my soon to be wife's, and I had to pull her in for one more kiss. When we finally broke apart, those blue eyes were searching mine, and I knew there was something she wanted to say.

"What are you thinking about?" I asked.

"You. I know we are getting married today, and I'm more excited about it than anything, like, ever, but I'm also so proud of you."

"Britt-" I felt the embarrassment creeping up.

"No, I'm going to keep talking. You. Are. Amazing." Britt was kissing me between each word. "I just need you to know that. You're fighting so hard San, for things to be better in your head, and one day it's all going to get easier."

"I couldn't do it without you fighting right alongside me." My eyes were spilling tears. "I love you so much, B."

* * *

"Why are we going to Brooklyn? Kurt is going to  _kill_ us!" Brittany whined as we sat in the back of a cab.

"Remember the deal we made with him and Rachel? I get you for the whole morning, none of their shit until noon. And there are some people I want you to meet."

"People? In Brooklyn? You only come to Brooklyn for...oh.  _Really_?"

After that first night when I desperately needed to get myself to a meeting and found one in Rachel and Finn's neighborhood, I'd continued going there. Sure, it was easier to go to one of the ten places within walking distance of our apartment in Manhattan, rather than sitting on the subway for forty-five minutes, but I'd found comfort in the place. Rosa, the woman I'd met on that first terrifying night, had become something of a grandmother figure to me- since my own wouldn't speak to me- and I actually didn't  _hate_  the others there. That was saying a lot, especially from me.

My arm was tight around Britt's waist, and our fingers intertwined as we walked into the school gym. The usual circle of chairs was there, and a gave small waves to a few people before finding seats for Brittany and I. She was nervous to be there, and I gave her a reassuring smile before linking my pinky with hers. The gym was crappy and smelled like mold, but after one hundred days of sobriety, and on the day of my wedding, it couldn't mean more to me that I was letting these people see the girl who changed my whole life.

"Is this her?" Rosa leaned over and whispered to me when she sat down. I nodded, not bothering to hide the big, dorky grin that had spread across my face.

"Brittany, meet Rosa." I smiled towards her. "Rosa, this is Britt who, in six hours, is going to be my wife."

" _Dios mio_  Santana. You didn't tell me you two were engaged!"

"It's kind of a new thing." Britt said shyly. "But why wait? We've known for a long time that we would be together. For always."

The meeting began, and I watched Britt's eyes as she listened to the others speak. Everyone was in their own stage of brokenness, and compassion flashed across Brittany's face with each story. I thought of my own journey, and I knew it was so much shorter than some of the people who'd been sitting in that room for years, fighting with their own mind for so much longer. But it was a journey, still, and one hundred days in, some of the cracks in me were already healing. Every day, I tried to be grateful for something new, and on the day of my wedding, that thing was Britt's willingness to stick by me and help me put my pieces back together.  _For always._

After an hour, we were done, and I was surprised at how many people came to fawn over Britt. Yeah, we did like happy news (even I, the cold-hearted bitch felt a twinge in my chest when someone announced something good) so I wasn't sure why I was so surprised. It was just a weird feeling, people I hardly knew caring about my happiness, but it was an unspoken vow of the broken people to support one another. While Brittany smiled and talked to the others, let Rosa rub her belly, hugged people who were strangers to her, she never once broke her hold on my hand.

* * *

"Mmmmm." I hummed against Brittany's lips. "I don't want to be away from you right now."

"Too bad, Satan!" Kurt cut in, breaking the spell over Britt and I. "You're already home thirty-six minutes late. Brittany, time to go."

Once again, Lady was forcibly removing Brittany from my embrace, and dragging (okay, maybe not dragging, Britt  _was_  much more accommodating than me) her off to his apartment. I turned around to face Rachel and my mother, who seemed to be patiently waiting to help me get ready. I was shocked to see my friend doing anything with patience, but I also knew that for some reason she was terrified of Mamí. Smirking at Rachel's obvious discomfort, I walked into the bathroom and turned on the shower.

Forty-five minutes later, I was sitting in a chair across from the mirror in the bedroom, wearing a white lace bra and panties (I should have probably be disturbed that Kurt picked out my underwear, right?) slipping pantyhose up my legs. My two useless bridal attendants were just about staring at me, waiting for further instruction.

"Can someone plug in the curling iron for me?" I watched as they just about jumped over each other to do it. It was going to be a _long_ afternoon.

" _Mija_ , what else can I do?" Mamí asked when Rachel beat her to the iron.

"I don't know!" I snapped. "I just need a second!"

Okay,  _that_ was kind of out of nowhere. Anxiety started to rise in my chest. It wasn't being married that I was anxious about, it was just that everything about the day was becoming emotionally overwhelming. Yeah, I actually was getting teary over my mom and Rachel trying to plug a curling iron in. We were off to a  _great_  start. I closed my eyes for a moment, and tried to regulate my breathing, and when I opened them again, my minions were on either side of me.

"Oh, don't you two start the emotional shit with me." They exchanged a glance with each other, and Rachel smiled.

"You're going to be fine, and you're going to be beautiful." My mother whispered, and my hands subconsciously touched my scars. Although I'd only ever voluntarily showed them to Britt, my mom and Rachel had, for obvious reasons, seen them. "Don't, your mind shouldn't go  _there_  today."

"My mind  _always_  goes there Mamí." I sighed. "But I'm trying to push it down. I just hope I'm good enough, and strong enough for Brittany."

"She loves you, Santana." Rachel broke in. "No matter what you do, you'll always be good enough for her. Look at what you've already overcome together. With the exception of myself and my absolutely wonderful fiancé, I don't think there has ever been a better match than the two of you."

"And you're actually nice to her." Mamí snickered. "She's the  _only_  one."

The warmth I felt towards Rachel and my mother lasted less than an hour. After I had blow dried my hair and compulsively tweezed the tiniest hairs of my eyebrows, I actually needed their help curling my hair. Except that I was dealing with the two most fashion incompetent people in the history of the world, and they were behaving like they'd never so much as  _seen_  a curling iron. Oh so much fun.

"Rachel Berry. If you burn off my hair, I swear I will kill you in your sleep!" I screamed as she held the iron to my head.

"I'm not going to burn off your hair, I'm perfectly capable-"

"Don't even finish that sentence. You have  _people_  who curl your hair." I rolled my eyes at her as the doorbell rang. "Mamí, can you get that?"

"If you would just relax and stop shouting, maybe I could actually get this right." Rachel whined.

Two sets of footsteps came toward the bedroom, and I heard the curling iron clatter to the floor. Rachel was squealing, and when my eyes flicked up to the mirror, I narrowed my eyes. My hands had once again found their way to cover my scars. If Berry wasn't so painfully straight, I'd swear she was in love with the girl she now had her arms around. Seriously,  _Quinn_?

"What are you  _doing_  here? Aren't you on the wrong side of the church?"

"You Satan, in a church? The walls would probably fall around you. And besides, I've been sent by your fiancée who loves you enough to save you from these two- no offense- and to save  _them_  from your wrath."

"I resent that, Quinn." Mamí laughed. "We happen to be very capable of getting Santana ready."

"Well, when I left Kurt's, Britt's hair and makeup were done, and she was getting into her dress. This one, on the other hand-" She gestured at me, still mostly naked and very far from ready "Is going to need some real help."

"You may be a bitch, Fabray, but you actually know how to use a curling iron." I gave Rachel a pointed look. "So you can stay."

Half an hour later, Quinn had the front of my hair pinned up, and the rest falling in soft curls around my shoulders. I noticed that she respectfully averted her eyes from my neck as she worked, and I appreciated that. She started on my makeup, and her hazel eyes caught mine.

"I didn't just come here to help you get ready." She confessed.

"Let me guess, it's because you wanted to see me naked?"

"Not. Into. Girls."

"You've always done a  _fantastic_  job of proving that."

"You should  _really_ get your gaydar looked at."

"Don't need it anymore, haven't you heard I'm getting married?" I smirked.

"Okay, can we be serious for a second? I know that's hard for you."

"Fine." I huffed, as Quinn swiped dark eyeshadow over my lids. "Go ahead."

"I'm happy for you, you bitch. Brittany and I had a long conversation the other night, and I know you're not going to hurt her. I always knew she wouldn't hurt you, but I've known you forever and you _still_  scare me. Still, you two have this world that exists only for the both of you, and I respect that you're both making the right decision."

"Awww, Q, you  _do_  love me!" I joked and placed a disgustingly wet kiss on her cheek, which I knew would make her cringe. "And you admitted I scare you."

"God, you are so gross."

"What, did you think I was going to say something  _nice_  in return? You've known me  _how_ long?"

* * *

Rachel was talking to Kurt in the kitchen, when Mamí finally zipped up my dress and arranged my veil. She kissed my forehead with tears in her eyes. Kurt had somehow managed to get the keys to Gramercy Park, and I was actually excited to see how he was going to make wedding magic (seriously, wedding magic? I had more coherent thoughts when I was drinking! All of the happiness was starting to make me crazy.) happen. Rachel and Quinn went ahead of us, and I walked the five blocks to the park with my mother. I was glad my blushing didn't show much, because if it did, I would have been the color of the tomato. People were whispering and smiling as I walked passed, and I'd be lying if I said I didn't like the attention. Once a fame whore, always a fame whore, right?

"You look so beautiful!" A tiny little blonde girl squeaked as we walked past her and her (obviously) gay dad.

"Are you going to meet your prince?"

"Actually." I bent down as best as I could in the dress, so I was close to eye level. "I have a princess waiting for me."

"Wow!" The little girl gasped, as her dad grinned at me. "Two princesses! My daddies are two princes!"

I was still smiling over that kid when we got to the gates of the park, and Mamí slipped inside and left me at my designated area. I was starting to get impatient, when Kurt walked around the corner and my jaw dropped. Clutching his arm was Brittany, wearing a flowing, cream colored dress that gathered at her chest with a spray of crystal flowers just above her bump. I opened my eyes wide to keep the tears that were threatening to fall at bay, and through our veils I stared into hers as she approached.

"San..." She reached out to touch me. "You're so  _beautiful_."

"I can't." I hiccuped. "I can't talk or I'm going to start to cry. But you..."

"Thank you." She didn't need the words, my thoughts were hers. She turned to Kurt. "I thought we couldn't see each other before the wedding."

"This is it." His smile was bordering on ridiculous as he handed me a bouquet of daisies and sterling roses that matched the one I didn't notice Britt was holding. "It's time to go. Your dads and I talked, and we all agreed that giving you away was pointless, you've already belonged to each other for so long, even when you forgot that. So you're going to walk down that aisle, together."

My knees felt weak, and Britt's touch on my arm did nothing but make them feel even more like jello. Slowly, I breathed as much air as I could, and when Kurt opened the gate and slipped inside, Brittany grabbed my hand with hers. This was  _it_ , the moment that we'd officially be together forever. There were just eleven chairs set up in front of the daisy canopy that had been built in the center of the park. Our parents, Lizzie, Finchel, the gays, Quinn (who was with her old husband that I'd never met), that was our family, and there were already tears flowing from most of their eyes.

The park looked like something from  _The Secret Garden_ , and I figured Kurt had done it intentionally for Brittany- she really did love anything that seemed magical. It was a miracle we even completed the walk, because I neither of us could stop staring at the other. A cellist played the wedding march, and we had to move forward, as much as I just wanted to melt into the spot we were standing at.

When we finally reached the makeshift altar, I was shocked to see who was standing where I assumed the justice of the peace would be. None other than Holly Holiday, the first person who ever made it okay for me to talk about my feelings for Britt. It had been so brief that she was in our lives, but she had an impact on us that few other people did.  _She_ ** _would_** _be able to perform weddings_ , I thought, and one look at Brittany told me what she was thinking exactly the same thing. Everything felt so surreal, and the weakness returned to my knees.

"Hey there everybody!" Holly started, and just when I thought my smile couldn't get any wider it did. "So we are all here for the same thing, to see these two girlies tie the knot. Let me just say, that I could have called  _this_  eight years ago when  _someone_  finally figured out her awesome." There were snickers, mostly from Quinn, and it didn't even annoy me. "They've written their own vows, which I for one, can't wait to hear."

"Santana." Brittany's eyes were locked with mine, and she grabbed both of my hands. "For as long as I've know you, you have always made me feel like I was the most special person in the entire world. Sometimes I look at you, and I feel like it has to hurt you how strongly you love, but being loved by you is the best feeling I've ever known. To me,  _you're_  everything that's good in this world. You're fierce, loyal, protective, and you'll probably be so pissed at me for saying this, but you're also super snugly and sweet." I was laughing through my tears. "The times in my life when I thought we wouldn't always be together were some of the scariest I've ever gone through, and I'm glad that this day means we will never have to be apart again. We aren't perfect, neither of us will  _ever_  be, but perfect doesn't matter when your heart feels like it's going to burst every time you look at someone. That's what you do to my heart, and I love you, every single part of you,  _for always_."

"Brittany." I had to take one set of our clasped hands and place it so the back of mine was over her heart. I needed to feel it beating, and she surprised me by doing the same to my heart with the other set. "You are sunshine to me. I'm not sure how you do it, but you can bring a smile to my face no matter what. There's just this happiness radiating from you all the time. There are these things you do, that no one else in the world does. You sing The Little Mermaid in the shower, you eat your ice cream first and let the sprinkles fall to the bottom of the cup so you can have the rainbow part last, but most importantly, you believe in  _magic_. Because you believe in magic, it makes me believe too. You and me together, we are special and magic and just wonderful. You're right, we aren't perfect, but we're perfect for each other, like we were made just to fit together. I love you more every single day. You are mine, and I am yours,  _for always_."

Britt and I exchanged rings, her's gold like my engagement band, mine platinum like her's. After the rings were on our fingers, we linked our pinkies together, and she winked at me. That link was what bonded us from the very beginning, a link that would never,  _ever_ break.

"I now pronounce you legally wed. Now c'mon sweet cheeks, we all know you've been waiting to kiss each other."

No one ever had to tell us that twice. I wrapped my arms around Britt's neck and as soon as her lips met mine, our marriage was sealed.

* * *

After Britt had fallen asleep with her head on my shoulder during the three hour dinner Kurt had planned at DelMonico's, she finally gave into my pleas to take her home. When we got inside, Brittany had roused herself considerably, and I was glad she wasn't dropping from exhaustion.

"I wanna dance with you, Mrs. Lopez-Pierce!" She announced.

"Oh, so we're keeping some wedding traditions then?" I asked, walking to plug the iPod into the sound system.

Britt shrugged her shoulders. "We always dance anyway. Play our song."

_For you, there'll be no more crying._

_For you, the sun will be shining._

_And I feel that when I'm with you,_

_It's alright, I know it's right._

If anyone had seen us, they would never have guessed that we were both awesome dancers. We were pretty much just standing there, in the middle of our living room holding each other and swaying. It was getting ridiculous how much I'd cried, but when I saw the tears running down Brittany's face, I started up again.

_To you, I'll give the world._

_To you, I'll never be cold._

_'Cause I feel that when I'm with you,_

_It's alright, I know it's right._

"We made it." I whispered against Britt's chest.

"We  _had_  to make it. Neither of us would have ever felt complete if we stayed apart. There was never another way."

My beautiful wife always was a genius. But I didn't regret the years we'd spent apart. Maybe that sounds crazy, because those years were so bad for me, but we both came back to each other, back into a relationship realizing what it meant to feel in aching need for someone in your bones.

_And the songbirds are singing,_

_Like they know the score,_

_And I love you, I love you, I love you,_

_Like never before._

We'd all but stopped moving, and Brittany's lips were pressed against the small part of my scars that were exposed.  _We aren't perfect_ , the words from her vows repeated in my head. I placed my hand under her chin and drew her lips to my mouth. My kisses were needy, and Britt parted her lips to let me have what I wanted. I could never get enough of her, and I didn't want to. I wanted to spend the rest of our lives needing each other, making each other happier than we'd ever been.

_And I wish you all the love in the world,_

_But most of all, I wish it from myself._


	27. The Game Of Life

When I was a kid, my parents and I would play the Game of Life. There were these spaces, find a job, get married, buy a house- I'm sure there was some kind of official name for them, if someone really cared, but I always just called them the  _stop sign spaces_. Each one had this big red stop sign,  **ATTENTION, YOUR LIFE WILL NEVER BE THE SAME!**  Okay, so they didn't say that, that's just always what I thought. In the game, you get another little pink person in your car (hey, six year old me was  _way_  more comfortable with that than sixteen year old me would have been!) and then everything is different.

A lot of people say that marriage doesn't mean all that much, but then maybe they've never been married, or never been married to the right person. The game was right, the minute Britt and I kissed on the altar, I felt a fundamental shift in my being. It was one less thing I had to be afraid of, my incredible wife and I were  _forever_. That was a pretty awesome feeling.

Of course, the rest of the world had to continue around us, as much as I would have liked to remain in our little bubble forever. After spending the entire weekend in bed, Britt had to go back to work on Monday morning, and I had to go back to the things I did all day to keep my mind from running away with itself. But when Friday afternoon finally came around again, I was glad for another weekend bubble. This time, for our sort-of-honeymoon out in Montauk.

"Let's go, let's go, let's go!" Brittany bounced on her toes at the door.

"I'm coming, I'm just making sure we have everything."

"What do we even need to bring? You know we are just going to be naked the whole time anyway!"

"Point taken, _Mrs. Lopez-Pierce_." I dragged the suitcase into the hallway and then pulled Brittany in for a kiss.

"Think we'll ever get tired of saying that?"

"I'm gonna go with no."

It was a good thing Britt left work early, because it seemed like every single person in the city was going to eastern Long Island. Kurt had warned me when he dropped off the car (it was  _really_ time for Brittany and me to get one of our own- I wouldn't have been surprised if Lady Hummel showed up like Rumplestiltskin at the hospital to take our baby as payment for all the times I'd used his car) that it would be brutal, but I didn't expect that it was be as big of a nightmare as it was. Almost four hours to drive 115 miles, apparently it was a  _terrible_ idea for the second weekend in June.

It was after five when we finally checked into the hotel ( _Lopez-Pierce!_ ) and Britt ran right out on our balcony to look at the beach. That's the thing about growing up in a landlocked state, none of us could  _ever_  get enough of seeing the ocean. After dropping our things on the floor, I followed her out and wrapped my arms around her waist from behind.

"Do you know when the last time I went to the beach was?" Britt asked me.

"When?"

"Summer before senior year."

"Brittany!" I was shocked.

"You haven't been to the beach since..." My mind was already in Miami before I could finish the sentence.

* * *

_The Pierces always went away for two weeks in the summer, and those were always the worst for me. I'd be stuck doing some kind of candy striper volunteer bullshit at the hospital and Britt would inevitably leave her phone somewhere so I wouldn't even get to talk to her and complain after my shifts were over. But that summer, after our epic loss at Nationals, Britt begged her mom to let me come with them._

_"Please mom, if we leave Santana here alone she might kill Rachel Berry. So it will kind of be our fault that she goes to prison, and I'll feel so guilty that I'll have to drop out of school, and..."_

_Susan didn't even have to be begged, her yes was almost immediate, and even my parents didn't give me a hard time. Miami was where Britt and I really became more than best friends who slept with each other, where we'd really started to figure things out. When we left Lima, I wasn't sure where she stood. After one mind blowing night that we snuck out of the room we shared with Lizzie and had sex on a stolen hotel sheet on the beach, all of the doubts in my mind were gone. Brittany and I could be together for real- even if it still had to be a secret._

* * *

"That was a really great trip." Britt's eyes darkened. "Especially..."

It was one of those zero to sixty moments. Britt spun herself around in my arms so she was facing me and pulled my lips to hers. We were still out on the balcony when she yanked my tank top over my head and I backed us up into the room. Brittany wasted no time pushing me down on the bed and working on the button of my jeans. She was wearing a dress, and I slid the straps over her arms and pushed it down while she removed my jeans.

My eyes caught hers, and for an instant, Britt stopped what she was doing. I wanted to stare at her forever, worship the beauty that was her naked body.  _Lie down on the bed_ , I whispered to her. It wasn't often that I told her what to do during sex, we both preferred her dominance, but for once, I wanted to be in control. Things slowed down immediately, and once Brittany settled her head on the pillows, I moved my tongue across her lips. She opened her mouth and I kissed her deeply, while my hands found their way to her chest.

Britt's thigh was between my legs, and I was trying to keep my head together. Softly, I kissed my way down her neck, over her breasts, taking time to give them special attention. I was teasing her, and she was getting impatient. My own body was grinding involuntarily against her leg, needing friction, and I let out a small gasp. With one hand, I removed Brittany's panties and she grabbed my wrist, hurrying me to touch her.

"San, please." She begged.

" _Patience_."

My kisses were getting lower, until my lips were finally in the spot she needed me most. Britt's hips bucked up, but I didn't speed up my pace. Slowly and deliberately, I moved my tongue, building her up higher and higher. One of her hands snaked itself through my hair and I grabbed the other, stopping her from trying to take control of her own release. Brittany's moans became louder, and she whispered my name like a prayer. She was  _so_  close, and I locked our eyes before thrusting my fingers into her and feeling her walls clench around them.

Brittany squeezed her eyes closed as she let herself go and I squeezed the hand I was holding, claiming possession of her orgasm. I didn't stop my movements against her until she'd fully rode out her pleasure. When she was finished, Britt gave me her  _come hold me_  look, and I planted reverent kisses back up her body until I could pull her fully into my embrace.

"I love you." I breathed, meeting her lips with mine before resting my head on her chest.

"Lub you." She lisped back, her voice still thick.

We lay there, staring out the window at the ocean until long after the sunset. As usual, we didn't need words to fill a space, it was enough to just touch one another. Britt's chin rested on the top of my head, and I drew hearts with my fingers on the arm that was draped over me. Our legs were woven together, and I became lost in my thoughts.

"What's going on in there?" Brittany finally asked, tapping her left pointer finger on my temple.

"Nothing. I just have the one thing I ever wanted, you know?"

"I do, because so do I. Did you know that I have this wife, and she's kinda hot." She teased.

" _Kinda hot_?" I questioned in mock-horror. "Wow Britt-Britt, you always said I was super hot. Guess that was just to trick me into marrying you."

"You know I still think you're super hot."

"Sure you do." I grinned. "Prove it!"

* * *

In the morning, I left Britt sleeping and scribbled a note that I ran out to get us breakfast. When I came back from the bakery with a paper bag in my hands, she was out of bed and already tying on her bikini top. She turned from the mirror and smiled at me, then looked down at the bag and smiled even wider. I swear, the baby made Brittany's ability to smell anything sweet even  _stronger_ , and I constantly had visions of her growing a sugar coated Sour Patch Kid in her uterus.

"Morning!" Britt chirped, placing a quick kiss on my lips and attempting to grab the bag out my hand.

"Good morning to you too." I put my hands behind my back.

"What did you get me?"

"Maybe nothing if  _that's_  the kind if kiss you're going to start the day with."

She stuck out her bottom lip and waited a minute before putting her hand on the small of my back and giving me a real kiss. I moved my hand to her neck and sucked on her lower lip.  _That pout. I can't even._  Britt looked at me with pleading eyes when she broke the kiss and I handed over her breakfast. Because it was our sort of-honeymoon, there were cherry Danish, and no vegetables to come first. Brittany dug in immediately, while I pulled out my own bikini and tied the halter around my neck, carefully arranging my hair over it.

I grabbed our beach bag, and we made our way hand in hand down to the sand. Together, we spread out a sheet and I pulled the sunscreen out of the bag. Britt wrinkled her nose, and I rolled my eyes at her playfully. It always annoyed her that she had to rub the stuff all over herself to avoid looking like a cherry, while I could bake all day without the slightest burn. I took her hand and pulled her close to me, popping open the top of the bottle.

"I'm going to look like a greased up pig, you know." She complained. Throughout the whole week after the wedding, she had really started to feel self conscious about her body, but I thought she looked hotter than ever.

"No you won't, and if you don't put it on, you're going to be screaming in bed tonight."  _Wanky_. "And  _not_  in a good way."

Turning Britt around so she was facing away from me, I squeezed a dollop of the cream on her shoulders and massaged her while rubbing it in. She leaned back into my hands, and I made circles with the heels, covering each inch of her pale skin with the sunscreen. When she turned back towards me, I swiped each of her cheeks with my thumbs and kissed her before rubbing the rest of her face.

It was weirdly intimate moments like this, ones that didn't even involve sex, that made my heart overflow. Brittany and I had both slept with  _way_  more people that we cared to talk about, but our connection always transcended what we could have ever shared with anyone else. The fact that my rubbing sunblock on her, or her washing my hair, sliding off her shoes after a long day of work, simple everyday actions, made me feel more deeply connected with her than I'd  _ever_ felt with anyone else was absolutely beautiful.

I squeezed more of the sunscreen at the top of Britt's belly and tapped my fingers against it before working the lotion in. The baby kicked three times, before following the motions I was making and moving around. I looked at Brittany's face, and she was getting teary eyed. Since the wedding, her emotions had kicked into high gear, and I was trying extremely hard to keep mine in check to avoid escalating the situation.

"Somebody's awake." I moved my head so it was close to Britt's belly. "Good morning baby! Did Mama wake you up with all of that sugar she just ate?"

"The only sugar I've had today is from what  _Mamí_ gave me, this time, the blame  _isn't_  all on me." Brittany grinned, putting sunblock on her chest and arms.

" _This time_ , key words. But I'm glad you're awake to spend the day with us, you've been quiet in there."

"Giving us some time alone, I think." She smiled, taking a break from her sunscreen to kiss me again. "Hey San?"

"Yeah Britt?"

"I think Little Bean is a girl."

_A girl_. It didn't  _really_  matter the sex of the baby, that's what everyone always says when someone asks them. Truth is though, everyone secretly wishes for one of the other, and I hoped Britt was right. I mean seriously, I used to cry when I would land on the space for boy babies when we played Life. If Brittany's guess was off, and there was a boy in there,  _of course_  I'd love him just as much, but a smile spread across my face thinking about a tiny girl, a miniature Britt-Britt.

After Brittany and I each rubbed sunscreen on one of her legs, and we lay down on the sheet beside each other, our heads turned toward the center. I handed her a pair of her sunglasses out of the beach bag and tucked a stray hair behind her ear. We lay there, listening to the ocean, with just the very tips of our fingers touching. My body was relaxed in a way that it very rarely was, and I thought someday, it would be nice to have a house out at the beach.

"When do you have to start the re-writes on the Nick Harlow album?" Britt asked absently.

"It looks like there won't be many, but probably in the next few weeks." I sighed.

"Do you like it?"

"Like what, writing?"

"Yeah, you always seem kind of pissed off about it."

"I do, I love it. And I'm really good at it. I just don't always love who I'm working with."

"Do you think...?"

Brittany stopped before she could finish the sentence, but I knew what she was trying to ask. Besides that one brief discussion months earlier, we hadn't talked about me not singing anymore. I'd love to write music for myself, much more than I'd like to write for anyone else, it just still didn't seem like something that was possible. Of course, in the past few months, so many things had gone a different way than I'd ever expected, so I wasn't counting anything out anymore.

"Britt, you don't have to be afraid to ask me things," I pressed my thumb against her cheek. "I don't know if I'll ever be able to do it again, but I'm not entirely ruling it out. A lot of things hurt less now than I thought they would, so maybe some day  _that_  will too."

"Okay. I just want you to know that I support you, and I hope you'll always do things that make you happy."

"I know you do. Trust me, I know. The happiness thing is taking time for me, but I'm working towards it."

We lay on the blanket for hours, swam in the ocean, ate lobster on the floor of the balcony, had interesting married lady sex in several different places in our hotel room, and just  _savored_  every moment of each other. When we finally got in the car to go back to the city, it was a rainy Sunday afternoon, and I tucked the cashmere blanket Kurt kept in the backseat around Britt. Despite my best efforts, she still managed to leave with a sunburn, and had a bit of a chill. But still, it was the perfect weekend. It would be a while, I was sure, before we had another weekend of bliss with just the two of us, but that was okay with me. We weren't teenagers anymore, having illicit sex on stolen sheets, we were adults, spending the weekend celebrating the next big step in our life journey.


	28. I'm Not Letting Go

It was a  _huge_  mistake, letting myself forget that I was supposed to be afraid of the dark. Consuming myself with my newfound happiness, I began to let myself fall into a deep sleep, curled up in bed with Brittany. Never in my life had I fully let my guard down, but in that first week following our return from Montauk, my body betrayed me and created a false sense of security. Something woke me up in the middle of the night, and it took me a few seconds to realize that I was alone in bed and Brittany was desperately calling my name from the bathroom. I could hear my heart beating in my ears as I ripped the comforter off of myself and nearly tripped over my feet sprinting the twenty feet between the two of us.

"Santana." Brittany choked out one last time before I reached the door, and I swallowed the bile that was rising in my throat.

Walking in the bathroom, every one of my senses was assaulted. Brittany was sitting on the toilet, eyes squeezed shut, soaking wet and completely naked. Sobs wracked her body, and I dropped down so I was eye level with her. The shower was running, and the smell of vomit filled the room. Every muscle in my body was used to steady my shaking hands before I grabbed hers.

"Brittany." My voice cracked. "What happened? Tell me what's wrong."

"Everything hurts! I took a shower to try and stop the pain, but then I got sick. And..." Her eyes were still closed, she was close to hyperventilating. I put my hand to my chest, hoping my heartbeat was slow enough to calm hers. "I can't look. I just  _can't_ look, Santana, but I think there's blood."

"Shhh. Baby, you don't have to look. But you have to listen to me, okay? I need you to stand up."

I had to get control of myself before I started spiraling. I grabbed a towel and wrapped my breaking wife in it, and she stood up on shaky legs. When I looked down, I saw the blood, but I couldn't tell her just then. I couldn't make her panic until I knew my words wouldn't send me into tears first. Half carrying her, I sat Brittany down on the bed. Her sobs hadn't subsided, and her eyes were still closed.

"Open your eyes now." Slowly, she peeked them open and they were a color blue that I'd never seen before. Dark and stormy, clouded with so many emotions. "I have to leave you for a second. Just sit here on the bed, I'll be right back."

"Please don't leave me." Her voice was desperate, and I felt physically sick that I had to do it.

"I'm just getting my phone. Brittany, listen to me, you're  _both_  going to be okay. I promise."

I wouldn't make her a promise I couldn't keep, I would go through hell to make sure that Brittany and the baby were okay. Letting go of her, I went in the living room where she was still visible through the door, and called for an ambulance.  _There was blood_. It was finally hitting me what was happening and I let a single tear fall while I gave the operator our address.  _Get. It. Together_. The order was more forceful than any I'd ever given myself, and I was still finding it nearly impossible to obey.

Britt's gasps from the other room were pained, and I shoved the phone in the pocket of my sweatpants before going back to her. As long as I kept myself focused on  _her_ , I wouldn't lose it. Quickly, I grabbed a washcloth, one of my t-shirts and her sweats before sitting back on the bed. She was nearly doubled over, holding her back with one hand and her stomach with the other, and I put my fingers under her chin so my eyes met hers.

"We're going to the hospital."  _Don't break down. Don't break down_. "We're going to get you dressed."

"Am I going to die?" She asked weakly. Why was she even thinking that? Of course she wasn't going to die! "Is...?"

"No." My insides twisted as I cut her off before she could finish that second sentence. " _Nobody_  is going to die, Brittany. Do you hear me? I'm going to keep both of you safe."

Gently, I placed the washcloth between Brittany's legs and slipped on the sweatpants. I paused for an instant as my hands grazed her bump, and quickly pressed my lips above her belly button.  _Mama and I are here, baby, just hang in there_ , I whispered, closer to a prayer than anything I'd said in a long time. The tiny taps I felt against my lips steeled my resolve. When I pulled the shirt over Britt's head, I kissed her forehead, then the skin over her heart and she moved her arms to pull me closer. I met her eyes and we didn't need words. She knew I would do  _everything_  I could to protect her.

After sliding shoes on both of us and grabbing my bag, I helped Britt move to the couch and wrapped her in the throw blanket. My anxiety was starting to get the best of me, and pulling Brittany's head to my chest and carefully drawing hearts over her belly was to calm my panic just as much as hers. The ache in my chest grew, feeling her sobs against me and knowing there was nothing I could do to stop them. Those horrible nightmares I'd suppressed were trying to let themselves into my head, but I  _couldn't_  let them take over, I  _had_  to be the strong one.

"There was blood, right?" There wasn't panic in her voice, so much as the sound of defeat, and I didn't know which was worse.

"Yes." I could never lie to her. "But as soon as the ambulance gets here, they're going to take care of you. And I'll be with you the whole time."

"Don't let go of me."

"You know I never will."

It was probably about six minutes between the time I called 911 and the time that help came, but it felt like  _hours_. The paramedics were at the door, and I called for them to come in. My hand was like a vise on Brittany's as the two guys who were probably younger than us lifted her onto the stretcher. The fear on Britt's face seemed to intensify as they began asking her questions on the way to the elevator, and I stepped in to answer as many as I could for her.

"How far along are you, Brittany?" The lanky redhead, Jeff asked her.

"Almost thirty weeks." She answered softly.

"Who is your obstetrician?"

"Dr. Anjli Singh." That one was mine to answer.

"Are you having contractions?" She looked to me for help, and I tried to determine whether or not she was.

"It's possible." I told them.  _Fuck_. It made sense that they were contractions, and _that_  was bad. Thirty weeks was too early, her due date was still  _way_ too far off. "Her pain has been coming and going for the past-"

"Hour." Britt finished. "And I threw up."

"Did you do anything strenuous today?"

"No!" I snapped.  _Hell no_. No one was going to put ideas in Britt's head that  _she_  did something wrong. "We spent the day on the couch watching movies and cuddling. And we didn't have sex, either, since that's probably the next thing you'll ask."

I locked eyes with the man boy so he knew not to mess with me. He probably wasn't even being malicious, but my senses were entirely out of control and Snix was dying to rear her ugly head. When I broke the glare, my attention immediately went back to Brittany, and her crying hadn't lessened any. We were finally out of the building on the dark sidewalk, and Brittany's grip on my hand was tighter. _No, absolutely not, this was_ ** _not_** _about me_. I couldn't have her worry that I was going to panic in the dark. My eyes met hers and I silently told her as much.

The sound of the ambulance sirens were another trigger for me, but I wouldn't let them push me off the edge I was precariously balancing on. Jeff and the stocky blonde guy, who's name I hadn't heard, lifted Britt in through the back doors, and I scrambled up after them, desperate to grab her hand again. I touched as much of our bodies together as I possibly could, running my hand across her belly one last time before they started to attach the fetal monitor.

"Brittany, I'm going to need you to try and calm down." Jeff told her. Did the other guy even speak?

"I. Can't. Calm. Down." She gasped, turning her head so she could bury it against my chest.

"Can you...?" Jeff was speaking to me, and the way he was looking at me told me that Britt's panic was going to make the situation worse. Great,  _no one_  was allowed to lose it?

"Hey." I said soothingly. "Britt, we'll be at the hospital soon, but I need you to take some normal breaths. I'm here with you, you're safe, but you have to breathe for me. Let's do this together. Okay baby?"

She shook her head against my chest, and I stroked her hair and rubbed her back. Under my touch, I could feel her breaths slow down slightly, but it wasn't enough. How could I  _possibly_  calm Brittany down when I was having enough trouble keeping myself together. While I held her, I tried not to think about the fire that seemed to be burning in my throat, and the thing I knew would cool it down.  _No, Santana. Think about what matters. Get your shit together and help your wife._

"Tell me a story, please San." Brittany said suddenly, lifting her head enough so I could see her eyes.

We hadn't done this in so long, but back when we were in high school and one of us was worried or upset, the other would tell a story. The rules were, the stories had to be happy, and they had to be about the two of us together. Maybe it's strange, but hearing our own love stories had this amazing calming effect. It was a perfect idea, it was something I could actually handle.

"Okay. Okay." I was reassuring myself that I could do it. Good, happy memories, that's what could get us through. "I'll tell your favorite, the one about the first time I got dropped off the pyramid. When you broke down my walls so soon after meeting me."

* * *

_We were twelve years old, and somehow we had become the chosen ones. A group of girls from Lima Junior High School who Sue Sylvester had personally culled to be the future of her Cheerios. Brittany and I had met on the first day, just three days before, and two hours later, that new girl Quinn Fabray had her face meet with my hand after she called Britt stupid. The fact that I liked the blonde enough to slap someone for her, that was saying something, because I_ **_never_ ** _liked anyone. It was probably already a given that she would be my first and only best friend._

_"Let's go ladies!" Sue Sylvester screamed into the megaphone. "This is not a contest to see who moves the slowest. I don't want to have to shoot you all up with amphetamines, so get a move on!"_

_"What do frogs have to do with this? And how is she going to shoot us with them?" Brittany whispered to me, raising her eyebrows._

_"Huh?" Oh, right, I already knew that Britt mixed up words. "No, not amphibians, Britt, amphetamines. That crazy woman wants to give us drugs to make us move faster."_

_"Stop talking!" Her shouts echoed through my head. "Guadalupe, you're on top of the pyramid." Seriously, Guadalupe? Of all the Spanish names out there,_ **_that_ ** _was the one she'd picked for me?_

_Sue Sylvester may have been psychotic, but she had good taste. I knew I was the hottest bitch there, except for probably Brittany, and I belonged at the top. When I was hoisted up, I gave a mega-watt smile before preparing to flip myself through the air and ace a perfect landing. Except I never made it that far. Someone below me (I_ **_still_ ** _swear it was Fabray) let go of my foot, and before I knew it, I was tumbling through the air- and_ **_not_ ** _in the way I was supposed to. When I hit the ground, everything was spinning, and my face was sticky with the blood that was dripping from my nose._

_"Get back up!" Sue screamed, but I couldn't answer her, I was lying sprawled on the floor incoherent. "I'm talking to you Border Jumping Barbie! Do I need to get someone to speak Mexican?"_

_"I-" Yeah, words weren't really happening. Sue was going to_ **_kill_ ** _me._

_"Hey!" Someone screamed. Who_ **_was_ ** _that? "You can't talk to her like that! That's bullying and I won't stand for it!"_

_There were gasps from the other girls. No one could talk to Coach Sue like that. My mind was still fuzzy and I was trying to figure out who was sticking up for me. Everyone was so scared of me that no one ever felt the need to defend me. When I looked up, there was Brittany, standing with her hands on her hips_ **_glaring_ ** _at Sue. I tried to make myself sit up, but before I could, Britt had bent down and picked me up over her shoulder, still glaring at the coach, daring her to stop us as she carried me back to our cabin._

_"We're going to be in so much trouble." I moaned as Britt put me down on her bottom bunk._

_"She'll get over it. You're bleeding and your shoulder already looks like it's going to bruise."_

_I couldn't protest as Brittany forced me to lean my head back, and she wiped it with a wet washcloth. She took off my sneakers for me and helped me lie back on the bed, while she pulled disposable ice packs from her suitcase ("My mom figured I'd need them for something!"). I gasped in pain as she arranged them around my shoulder and then forced me to swallow three Advil. Somehow, I managed to fall asleep, and when I woke up, Britt was still sitting next to me on the bed._

_"Hmmm." I murmured sleepily. "Britt-Britt?"_

_"Britt-Britt?" I could hear the smile in her voice and the heat rushed to my cheeks._

_"Umm." That fall rattled my brain, I didn't_ **_ever_ ** _call people_ **_nice_ ** _nicknames. "Sorry, I don't know why I called you that."_

_"No, I like it, no one else has ever used that one."_

_"Thanks for standing up to Sue. She's such a bitch, and I'm sure we'll both pay the price for this."_

_"I don't care. She's a bully and I don't like bullies."_

_"No one has ever tried to protect me like that before. It was, um, really nice."_

_"Everyone should have someone that would protect them. I think we're going to be really good friends, San. Then we can always protect each other."_

_Had anyone else said that to me, I would have laughed in their face. I didn't_ **_do_ ** _friends, I just hung out with people as a matter of convenience. But something about Britt was different, something made me let her in almost immediately. The girl made pinky promises, she danced to no music in the middle of the extra laps Sue forced on us for punishment, she was everything I would have_ **_hated_ ** _in anyone else, and yet probably even then, I loved her._

* * *

When I finished the story, I felt Brittany's heart rate and breathing had slowed significantly. She was calmer, calm enough that Jeff nodded at me in gratitude. Our hands were still clasped tighter than ever before, but as long as she was relaxed enough to keep her and the baby as safe as possible, we were good. I could tell we were reaching the hospital, and I gently placed a kiss on Britt's forehead, and told her with my eyes how much I loved her. She was going to be okay, she  _had_  to be okay. My mind needed to stop drifting off to the dark place, Brittany could not see the fever pitch of fear in my eyes.

"Okay, time to to inside." Jeff told us, and they began to move Britt.

"I'm not letting go B, don't forget that."


	29. Sweet Dreams, Little One

Hospitals are cold and sterile, and yet the hospital is the place where so many earth shattering or world rocking moments take place. It doesn't make any sense, really, you'd  _think_  there would be something warm and inviting about them. But there isn't. Even for people who have never spent time fighting for their life inside walls like that, hospitals are still horrific. For those of us who  _have_ , the buildings are completely unbearable.

Apparently Jeff and the blonde guy called in some kind of information while I was lost in telling Brittany a story. When we got inside the emergency room, it was clear that Britt's pain was no better, and she was immediately put in a wheelchair and taken upstairs. Dr. Singh was waiting at the nurse's station, thankfully, looking extremely awake for 1:30 in the morning.

She wasted no time getting Brittany into an exam room, and the great thing about Dr. Singh was her calming presence. There was something very zen about her, something I never would have thought would work for a doctor, but it's what we all needed in these horrifying moments. My hands were entwined with Britt's, and I watched and waited, needing to hear answers. Anyone else would have missed it, but I knew something was coming as a look of uncertainty passed across Dr. Singh's face.

"What it it?" I demanded, attempting to keep my voice as even as possible.

"Just give me a moment." Dr. Singh answered, lips tight. We waited, and she finally looked to me when she spoke. "Can I talk to you outside?"

"Yeah." I looked at Brittany and pressed her hand to my heart.  _Not letting go, I'm still holding you with this_. Dr. Singh stood in the hallway so we could still see Britt, holding back the sobs.

"I'm not going to sugarcoat this for you, Santana, but you need to be strong when we go back in there and speak to her. We're going to take her into surgery, she has an abrupted placenta and we need to get the baby out. Now. If we don't, things can take a wrong turn  _really_  quickly. The bleeding hasn't been going on all that long, so we are still early in the game and should be able to avoid severe complications for Brittany." Dr. Singh's voice always had this melodic cadence to it, but it didn't soften the blow of her telling me that she was about to cut my wife open and remove our  _way_  too small baby.

"And the baby?" My voice broke on the word  _baby_. My mind was in the dark place. It was becoming impossible to control.

"Thirty weeks is a relatively safe place to be."

Dr. Singh didn't make me a promise for either of them.  _Should be able to avoid severe complications_  and  _relatively safe place_  weren't strong words to go in on. I nodded to the doctor that I would stay strong, and went back to hold Brittany close to me for as long as possible. While the doctor explained the procedure to us, I whispered words of comfort in Britt's ear and tried to control her panic, if I couldn't control my own.

"We're gonna be moms today." Brittany choked out, trying to find some comfort in the horrible situation, and I swallowed the lump in my throat.

"Yeah we are Britt-Britt." I thought of the expression that my mother always used, _Dios te oiga! From your lips to God's ears._  If there was a God, I really hoped that he was listening to the silent prayers that were coming from both of us.

I wrestled the gown on that one of the nurses gave me, still watching Brittany through the glass as they prepared her for surgery in the operating room. Her eyes met mine, and I nodded to her, I'd be inside with her as quickly as I could. What I  _really_ needed was a minute to compose myself, but it was a moment I couldn't afford. The antiseptic smell made my throat burn, but I swallowed it as I scrubbed my hands and tripped through the door to Britt's side.

"I love you." She said groggily, they'd given her an epidural and a sedative. Rationally, I knew that was the reason she sounded like that, but the irrational part felt her slipping away.

"And I love you. Just focus on me, okay. We are going to get you though this."

Brittany looked so small, laying there on that cold table with her blonde hair splayed behind her head like a halo. Her bottom lip was sticking out and trembling, and I brushed my thumb across it before grabbing her hands, the hands that were looking for a place to go now that they couldn't rest on her stomach. I touched each finger, thinking that these hands  _would_  get to hold the baby, would ruffle their hair, button jackets, wipe smudges from cheeks, soothe nightmares, they  _had_  to. The three of us, we had to be okay.

"Okay Brittany, you won't feel anything, but we're going to make the first cut now."

I wasn't supposed to look, that's the promise I'd made to myself so I wouldn't unravel. The promises I made to other people, those, I never broke, but promises I made myself, they never stuck very well. So I broke eye contact with Brittany and looked over the sheet that separated us from her belly. The exact moment I looked was the one where the silver blade sliced across Brittany's smooth white skin. As soon as the blood trickled out, I could smell it, and the careful control I had maintained on my emotions shattered.  _Highly emotional situations tend to aggravate post traumatic stress_ , Dr. Collins' voice played in my head. Quickly, I tore my eyes away, but I knew that it was too late. The internal struggle in my mind began, and the past and present were warring for control of me.

"I don't feel anything, Santana. Did they do it yet?" Brittany's voice was weaker, I was commanding myself to stay present.

_My heels against the pavement, clicking with each step. Loud, thudding footsteps behind me._

"They're doing it now. Just keep your eyes on me. You're doing great, baby."

_The smell of Armani cologne and a heavy hand on my shoulder. I weighed 117 pounds, walking home like this was a really bad idea._

"There's more bleeding than we thought. Dr. Singh, how should we proceed?"

_"Trying to figure out how you know me, sugar?"_

"Santana, what's happening? Why are they all running around?" Her hands were on my cheeks, holding eye contact, tethering herself to this world. I needed to be entirely in this room.

_Hard blows across my face, the taste of blood in my mouth._

"The mother's stats are dropping. We need to get the baby out, now."

_"I just want to teach you a lesson."_

No. No.  _No._  He wasn't taking this away from me too. My resolve became hard as nails and shook that night out of my mind. My breathing was labored, but I was back, entirely, with Brittany. Machines were beeping frantically, and my wife's beautiful blue eyes were murky. I put my hands on both sides of her cheeks and shook her gently while the anesthesiologist injected her with something.

"Brittany, you're staying with me. I know what the edge looks like, and you have to stay on this side. I need you here, we  _both_  need you here."

"I'm...tired, San."

"It's okay, we'll sleep later. Now it's time to be awake. Just a few more minutes and it will all be over."

It felt liked days watching her struggle, but finally, whatever the doctors had given her seemed to start working. New blood was pumping into Brittany's system, and I watched the color slowly return to her skin. She reached one of her hands to touch my face, and I mouthed  _I love you_  to her. When she said it back to me, clear as day, I knew she had backed away from the cliff. My tears had soaked her face, but the danger had passed. Brittany was okay, I was okay, and we had to wait for the last member of our little family.

In movies, someone always shouts out the sex of the baby, the cord gets cut and the whole happy family snuggles together on the bed. In this room, an impossibly tiny child was lifted from a little cocoon and was whisked to the other side of the operating room before we caught more than a passing glance.

"Santana, you have to-"

"I know." I touched my hand to my heart,  _I'm not letting go of you_.

My heart was torn in half as I rushed towards the area where they'd taken the baby. There wasn't a long, wailing cry coming from the plastic bassinet as I approached. Instead, there were tiny, desperate wheezes. I looked down and there, fighting for every breath was the most perfect (albeit, tiny) little girl I had ever seen. Her wrists weren't much bigger than my thumbs, and her eyes were scrunched shut, but she was  _beautiful_. My heart ached as I watched her struggle to breathe, and I looked at the team of people around her, working to warm her little body and give her life.

"Hi baby." I said softly, tears spilling down. Brittany always  _swore_  the little girl responded to me when she was inside, maybe she would listen now. She needed to listen now. We needed her. "I'm your Mamí, I don't know if you recognize my voice. Your Mama is getting all fixed up so she can come meet you, and I need you to be okay for that."

I had to pause for a minute. God, she couldn't weigh much more than three pounds. So badly, I wanted to scoop her up in my arms, protect her from everything. It all must have been so terrifying for her, coming out of her safe little place to be surrounded by machines and hushed panic.

"I'm never going to lie to you,  _mija_ , so you need to know this to know how loved you really are. When I first found out about you, I was so scared and I'd hoped you weren't real." I wasn't even sure my words were coherent, there was so much crying. "I know that's a horrible thing for me to say, but your Mama, she changed that. She made me realize how much I wanted something I'd never asked for. She's special like that, you'll see. Then I heard your tiny heart beating, and I didn't know it was possible to love someone so much that I had never even met. Mama, she's the one who knows about things like that too. I'm telling you, always go to her for emotional stuff, I'm not so good at it. All I know is that you changed my whole life before you were even born, and you're saving me more every day. Us Lopez-Pierce girls, we're fighters  _mi amor_ , you're going to fight, and we are going to fight for you. Just stay with us,  _please._ "

One of the nurses gave the baby a shot of steroids to help develop her lungs, and her body seemed to be pinking up slightly. I couldn't take my eyes off of her, it looked like Brittany spit her right out. A tiny tuft of wispy blonde hair adorned her head, the scrunches in her forehead, I even swore that she had the slightest hint of a pout. I wanted to touch her so bad, that's how I was used to doing most of my communication.

"You can open your eyes, baby girl.  _Te amo._ "

And she did. She opened the eyes that were the same blue that I could never get enough of. My heart swelled, and I took out my phone and snapped a few pictures. In the future, when she was grown and thriving, I wanted to be able to show her what she looked like on the day she was born.

"Santana." Dr. Singh put her hand on mine. "We just gave Brittany some medication that's probably going to knock her out for a while. Her body needs serious time to recover."

"Okay."

I tore myself away from the baby and found Brittany again. She was on the edge of sleep and I cupped her cheek with my hand. It was incredible how beautiful she still looked, even after the trauma her body has undergone. Her hand reached out to touch me, and I grabbed it and kissed the palm. Sleep was beginning to take her, but I knew I had a few moments.

"Baby?" She asked.

"She's beautiful, Britt-Britt. She looks like a miniature version of you."

"She..." Britt brightened.

"Yeah,  _she_. Now I've got the two most beautiful girls in the world."

"Uh-uh. Me.  _I_  do. I want to see her."

"When you wake up, I'll take you to her right away." I took out my phone and showed her her pictures I'd just taken. "For now, you can see these."

"Oh." The tears were filling both of our eyes as she stared at the tiny miracle. "She's so small. And I know I love her so much already."

"So do I. But you need to sleep, beautiful, it's going to help you heal." I kissed her gently on the lips and tucked her hair behind her ear. "I love you."

"Mmm...love you too."

Once Brittany was fully asleep, I kissed her hand one more time and went back over to the baby. She was sleeping as well, hooked up to several wires and wearing a doll-sized diaper, a bracelet that would have fit Finn's ring finger, and a pink hat that was too big for her head. Someone had written a tag for her plastic cradle:  _Baby Girl Lopez-Pierce, Born 6/17/2019, 2:17am, 3lbs 1oz, 16 inches_. She was here, she was really,  _really_  here.

"Sweet dreams, little one." I whispered, kissing my fingertips and brushing them over the top of the incubator.

Brittany was sleeping in her room, and the baby was sleeping in the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit. It wasn't even three in the morning, but I had phone calls to make. My exhausted body had flopped down in a chair directly between the two rooms, but I couldn't let sleep take me. Taking out the phone, I conference called my parents and the Pierces. I couldn't do it twice, once was hard enough.

"Santana?" Susan answered the call first, panic evident.

" _Mija_ , it's three in the morning, what's wrong?" My mother came on next.

"Hi." It was all I could say before the sobbing took over my body. I was emotionally exhausted. "Britt...she had the baby."

They started frantically talking over each other, and crying. I told them that both Brittany and the baby were hanging in there, but it was going to be a long road. The crying on all three ends of the phone was devastating, and a nurse came over and handed me a glass of water. My mom and Susan started making plans, and I hung up the phone, needing to process the day. My wife and daughter could have died, could  _still_  die, it was so unreal and  _incredibly_  fucked up.

_"Please God, if you're real, you'll take care of them for me. I can only do so much, but they're both fighting and they mean everything to me. Keep them safe."_

After checking on the baby one more time, I slowly made my way down the hallway to Brittany's room. She had her own fair share of machines attached to her, and I sat there for an hour, watching her sleep. The nurses promised they would find me when the baby woke up, but I still felt so conflicted. I wanted to be with both of them at the same time, and for the time being, that wasn't a possibility.

"San?" Brittany's eyes were still closed and her voice was raspy from the medication.

"It's me."

"Can you please come hold me?" Tears were falling from her closed eyes, I didn't even think that was possible.

"Britt, you need to get your rest, I don't want to interrupt it."

"I can't, not without you here. I'm still scared."

In that moment, I didn't care what the nurses would say. I took off my shoes and carefully sat down on the bed, avoiding the wires and the angry wound I knew lay between Brittany's hip bones. Positioning myself carefully, I lay her head against my chest and wrapped my arm tightly over her shoulders. She held that hand, and I whispered happy thoughts to her until she fell back to sleep. I wouldn't sleep, I knew, but I'd stay with her until she felt safe again.


	30. Halves Of My Heart

When we were younger, before we starting wearing our friendship bracelets, Brittany and I had these plastic necklaces we got out of the quarter machine at the grocery store. Each necklace was half of a heart, and they fit perfectly when you pressed them together. Britt was the only one I'd ever given half of my heart to, until the day that my tiny, tiny  _daughter_  emerged unexpectedly into the world. With the two halves of my heart separated by a long hallway, I found it difficult to breathe, difficult to feel like I was in the right place, no matter  _where_  I was.

I'd slipped carefully out of Brittany's bed after a few hours, and I stood at the foot, staring at the peaceful look on her face, seeing her hand still curled protectively over her stomach, watching blood from the bag at her bedside trickle down into her arm to restore what was lost. Despite the trauma she had gone through, she was still so incredibly beautiful. Six hours had passed since the birth of our child, and I wasn't sure if I'd inhaled a proper breath yet.

"I'll be back soon." I whispered, sure my words would find her somewhere in her dreams.

Brittany's nurse on duty, Ellen, smiled at me as I slipped out of the room and made my way back down to see the baby. It was a strange place, the NICU, every parent in the room was just about silent, as if words would break the spell everyone was under. I wasn't capable of being quiet. Sure, I could speak in whispers, but I'd always talked to the baby, stopping now seemed like I was giving up hope on her. And that wasn't something I could ever do.

"Hi  _mija_ , it's Mamí again." Even though she was sleeping, I wanted her to know I was here. "Mama is still in her room resting, but I  _promise_ , you'll get to meet her soon. We both love you more than anything, and you can't ever forget that. I'm sorry we don't have a name for you yet, we just thought we would know once we saw you. We'll have one soon though, we can't call you Little Bean or Magic Unicorn Baby forever...but seriously, use some of your unicorn magic on yourself, get big and strong so I can hold you in my arms."

She really was incredible, I stared down, trying to memorize every detail. For someone so small, there was so much that I hadn't noticed a few hours earlier. The bridge of her nose was dotted with freckles no bigger than pinpricks, her eyelashes were so light, I could almost see through them, her little fist was balled up and resting on her cheek, so like how Brittany's does while she sleeps. The rise and fall of her chest lulled me, and I felt like I could stand here staring forever, if only Britt were standing there staring beside me.

"Mrs. Lopez-Pierce?" A deep voice asked behind me. I whipped around and there was a very tall man (taller than Finn, if that's possible) with light brown hair and a cherubic face.

"Yes..."

"I'm Dr. Kellen, this little one's doctor." He gestured to my sleeping daughter.

"Hi, you can call me Santana, please." I tried to smile but it came out more as a grimace. I kind of  _hated_  doctors.

"Santana." He repeated. "Well, there's not all that much I can tell you right now, but we are doing everything we can to help her development. She seems to have responded well to the steroids we gave her, and her breathing is a bit easier. What we need to focus on is weight gain and helping her regulate her own body temperature, but you understand this may take a lot of time."

I nodded, unsure of whether I should speak, or what words I was supposed to say.

"What are all of the machines she's hooked up to?"

"Respirator." He began pointing as he spoke "Feeding tube, catheter, heart monitor, apnea machine. I know they look pretty terrifying, and I'm sorry you have to see your child like this, but I promise you, we are working hard to get her out of the woods."

Tears were threatening to fall, and I swallowed hard. Seriously, I needed to stop crying in front of every single doctor in the hospital. Brittany and the baby needed  _tough Santana_ , the one who could get shit done without getting ridiculously weepy about everything. Dr. Kellen placed his hand on my arm, and as much as I wanted to, I couldn't pull away.

"It's okay to cry." He told me. "And just so you know, it's okay to be afraid too. You're a mother now, you're probably going to be just a little afraid of everything for the rest of your life."

Yeah,  _that_  was kind of the problem. I  _already_  had too much fear, even before the baby came. I just needed to mobilize that fear into action instead of irrational behavior. I looked up at the doctor and nodded my thanks to him. When he left, I slipped my hand into one of the plastic pockets at the side of the incubator and tentatively touched the baby's arm. Even through the barrier, I could feel the soft warmth of her nearly translucent skin, and my maternal instinct was stronger than I had ever imagined it would be.

"Santana?" Ellen broke into my thoughts. "I think you should come back to Brittany's room."

Before she could say anything else, I was sprinting down the hallway. I'd almost made it there, when I started to hear Britt  _shouting_  at someone and crying as she did so. Britt  _never_  yelled, something was seriously wrong.

"Wait until Santana is here! She'll tell you what you need to do, and if you  _don't_ , I can  _guarantee_  she will go all Lima Heights on your-"

"Brittany!" I burst in through the door. "Baby, what's going on?"

Huge tears stared falling from her eyes, and her lower lip was quivering. I looked at Dr. Singh, the victim of my wife's rant, and she quietly stepped out into the hallway. As soon as I sat down on the bed, Britt buried her head in my chest. I wrapped my arms around her and rubbed her back as sobs engulfed her.

"Talk to me, tell me why you're so upset. And tell me why you need me to kick Dr. Singh's ass."

"They won't let me see her San! And what if she..." Britt was gasping for breath at her own words, her own  _thoughts_. "What if she dies before I get to?"

"Shhh." I felt like I'd been punched in the stomach. It was what I'd been thinking all day, said out loud. "I just talked to her doctor, they're doing everything they can to make sure she's okay. But Britt-Britt, you're really sick too, and you need to do what Dr. Singh tells you so you get better."

"It's just not  _fair_."

Her grip on me was tight, and I held her, letting her cry until it had subsided to just whimpers. I twirled her hair and drew hearts on her back with my fingers, crying like that  _couldn't_  be good for her, but I knew her hormones had gone completely haywire from the abrupt end to her pregnancy. Finally, even her whimpers disappeared, and her body went slack against mine, falling back into a deep sleep. Carefully, I wiped the tears that remained on her face and slid off of the bed to go check on things in the NICU.

* * *

They were both sleeping, and I finally sank into a chair in the exact center of the hallway. I wanted to be equidistant from them in case I had to run in either direction. For a moment, I considered calling my mom to find out when she was going to be there. But I didn't want to admit that I was found it all so  _impossible_  to do by myself. They were my wife and daughter, I was supposed to be able to handle it. Sighing deeply, I buried my face in my hands and wished it could be easier.

"Hi Santana." My head snapped up at the sound of Rachel's voice. She and Finn were standing above me, and Finn was holding a ridiculous amount of stuff.

"How did you...?"

"Your mom called me." Rachel didn't hesitate before pulling me into a hug, and I wrapped my arms back around her, actually grateful for it. "How are they doing?"

"Honestly, I don't know. The baby, she's  _so_  small and fragile and Britt lost all this blood, and she can't stop crying. I'm just at a loss right now, Rach. And I'm sorry I didn't call, I just can't deal with people right now."

"You have nothing to be sorry about. But we're  _not_  people, we're your family. I didn't call anyone else, not even Kurt, that's for you to do when you're ready. But Finn and I will be here with you. And your mom and Susan will be in New York in a few hours."

"Thanks." I mumbled. I hated admitting that I really did need them all with me, I  _always_ hated admitting that.

"We went to your apartment." Finn told me. "We, um, figured you would be here awhile, so we got you some of your things. Clothes for you and Brittany, stuff like that. And I took some books from the baby's room, I, um, read online that reading to premature babies is really good for them."

My eyes met Finn's, and I expressed my gratitude towards him with a single glance. He knew that I couldn't handle some big emotional show over it, but the fact that he'd taken the time to see what we actually  _needed_  meant so much to me. He fumbled around in his pocket for a minute, and pulled out the jewelry box that my mother had given Britt and I back in Lima.

"I also thought you might want this for her. You know, keep her safe and all that."

"I appreciate it, Finn. Just do me a favor, okay? Don't start praying to Grilled Cheesus again?"

* * *

I'd done another few rounds of going back and forth between the two rooms with Finn and Rachel sitting vigil in the center of the hallway. I couldn't allow anyone in to see the baby, not until Brittany was able to, and I didn't want anyone in my wife's room until I spoke to her. When Britt woke up again, I was glad that I was sitting on the edge of her bed, both hands around one of hers.

"Am I better now?" She asked, just when I didn't think my heart could break anymore.

"You're getting better every minute, Britt." I soothed, pressing my lips against her forehead.

"But can I-"

"Dr. Singh came in while you were sleeping. We're going to talk about it in the morning, okay? We'll see how you're doing then."

"The morning?" Her bottom lip started its trembling again, and I grabbed her chin between my thumb and pointer finger.

"I  _can't_  lose you, Brittany." My voice was thick. "You know I'd do anything for you, and if I thought it was safe, I'd be arguing with the doctors too. But I love you too much to do that."

She seemed to be contemplating my words and I looked past the drug clouded haze of her eyes. I didn't love the idea that she was so heavily sedated, but I also knew that she needed to stay calmer than she'd been earlier to reduce the risk of hemorrhaging.

"Britt, I'll be right back." I said, suddenly having an idea. "Take my phone, answer it when it rings."

Before she could protest my leaving, I grabbed her hands and kissed the palms quickly, before pressing my phone into the right one. Britt looked at me sadly before I walked out of the room and down the hall. On the way, I pilfered Rachel's phone and went back into the NICU. The baby was awake, rapidly blinking her tiny eyelashes and I said a quick  _hello-I love you_  before connecting to a FaceTime call with my own phone.

"Hi Mama." I smiled when I saw Britt's tired face on the screen and turned the camera towards the plastic bed. "There's someone who wants to meet you."

"Oh. Oh my God." I could hear the mixture of tears and excitement in Brittany's voice. "You're so beautiful. Hi, Little Bean, I'm your Mama and I love you so much. I'm so sorry they had to take you out of me before you were ready." Oh, God, the guilt and sadness in her voice was making me sick.

"But we know that's not Mama's fault, right  _niña_?" I interrupted, not wanting to encourage Britt's guilt.

"I just can't believe how perfect you are, pretty girl. Soon, I'll come sit with you and watch every breath you take, and then Mamí and I will get to hold you and kiss you and make sure you know every day how special you are. And you'll get to meet our crazy patchwork family, all of your grandparents, your crazy singing aunts and uncles who Mamí pretends she can't stand, but really, she loves them as much as I do." Brittany tried to laugh. "Baby, I'm trying to get strong so I can come and  _really_  meet you, but please, I need you to do the same thing."

Britt kept talking, then I joined in, and my heart felt whole for a little while. When the baby's eyelids fluttered shut, I held the phone closer so Brittany could watch the movements of her tiny breaths. Finally, I could tell that my wife was close to sleep herself, and I waited until she drifted off before disconnecting. As soon as I did that, the increasingly familiar heart tearing began, and I wandered back out into the hallway.

" _Mija!_ "

"Sweetheart!" My mom and Susan both called for me at the same time, and before I could respond, two sets of arms were around me, threatening to cut off my breathing. Of course, everyone's tears started up instantly. I filled them in on the latest medical information, and then looked at both of them seriously.

"Brittany thinks it's her fault." My voice broke. "And you all think  _I'm_  the stubborn one, but once she gets something in her head, that's it."

" _Santanita_ , you probably never listen to my stories, but do you remember that you were supposed to be born in November?" My mother asked.

"Vaguely?"

"Well you were, you were born five weeks early. I know what she's feeling like. When the time is right, I'll talk to Brittany."

"Thank you." Susan and I said simultaneously, and I felt the need to wrap my arms around the older blonde who looked so much like my wife and daughter. "She just met the baby on FaceTime, now they're both sleeping. I'll take you in to see Britt when she wakes up."

"You look exhausted." Susan stroked my hair. "Have you eaten anything today? Have you slept?"

I shook my head, and both of our mothers knew there was no point in making an issue of it. At some point, I would sleep, once I felt secure about at least  _one_  of my girls' conditions. But for the time being, I'd let the people I loved embrace me, keeping them at a comfortable distance from Britt and the baby until they were ready, until  _I_  was ready to let them in.


	31. Three Days

Three days. It had been  _three days_  that we'd all been suffering in between heaven and hell. Three days of waiting. Three days of my daughter fighting to breathe, to live. Of my wife fighting her own battle, crying all the time, fighting with me and the doctors to just let her  _see the baby already_. Of my own heart aching so badly that I'd swear it was bleeding. Three days without sleep, without anything, really, except for a torturous dance between hospital beds.

I could feel myself fraying at the edges, the first sign of the dangerous unravelling that I was struggling against. At some point during the second day, I'd told Rachel she could call Kurt and Quinn, I'd rationalized that Brittany did well with people. Except for the first time, she  _didn't_. When they came, they joined the others sitting vigil in the waiting area. Even our fathers, even  _Lizzie_ , when they came, couldn't get past the doorway to her room. It was only me, and sometimes Susan and Mamí, that could get in there. And only I could touch her, but even  _that_  wasn't completely acceptable by the third day.

"Hey there, baby girl." I stood over the incubator, trying my best, for her sake, to sound cheerful. "Guess what? You gained an ounce! I know that doesn't sound like much, but trust me, it's a  _really_  big deal. We are going to talk to Mama on the phone later, cheer her up a little bit with your pretty face. Oh,  _mija_ , we are so proud of you, growing nice and strong."

She blinked up at me.  _Baby L-P_ , the NICU staff had taken to calling her. It worked, for the moment, but she needed a real name, she needed her Mama to be well enough to come and help me give her one. As usual, it wasn't long before the baby drifted back into sleep. I wondered if someone so new to the world dreamed, and if they did, what they dreamed about. Maybe she dreamt about her old world, swimming in peace, Britt's heartbeat rocking her to sleep, the sound of our voices blending together on the outside.  _Safety_.

" _Te amo, bebé_." I whispered, before slipping away.

It was Lizzie who found me in the hallway between rooms, and grabbed my hand. She looked down at me, another set of those Pierce blue eyes. Another set of eyes that looked entirely too lost. I didn't resist as she pulled me into a bathroom and dropped the bag she was carrying.

"Lean your head over the sink." She ordered.

"What?"

"Santana, listen, no offense, but you're kind of  _gross_  right now. You have been wearing the same clothes since I got here, and you need ten minutes where you're not playing tug-of-war with yourself over who needs you more, my sister or my niece. So just  _please_ , don't argue with me."

She needed something to do, Lizzie was a lot like me in that sense. The only way she could keep herself from going completely insane was if she was doing something. I probably smelled disgusting, and once I started thinking about it, I realized that my head was actually starting to feel itchy from not washing my hair. I was too tired to argue anyway, and I crouched down and leaned my hair back into the sink.

While Lizzie washed my hair, I actually let my eyes close, and it was too soon that she was done and wrapping my dark hair up in a towel. I stood there, kind of forgetting what I was supposed to do next when the young blonde handed me a wet, soapy washcloth. Figuring it out, I stripped off my clothes and threw them immediately in the garbage, washing myself in the sink like I'd seen homeless people do at McDonald's. The thing was, I didn't even care, I'd rather that than being ten blocks away from Britt and the baby in the shower at home.

"How are you doing?" Lizzie asked, handing me one of the clean outfits that Finn and Rachel brought.

"Shitty, you?"

"Probably less shitty than you, but still..."

"She kind of hates me right now." I admitted to Brittany's little sister. "I think she's starting to think there's some kind of conspiracy to keep her away from the baby."

"My sister will  _never_  hate you. But yeah, mom said she's pissed at the world right now."

"I get it." I pulled the shirt (Brittany's, not mine, I'd noticed) over my head and looked back at Lizzie. "I mean, it's not the same, but I know what it's like feeing trapped in a hospital bed and not being able to get to the one thing you want. Dr. Singh can't even give us any answers, just that she's not stable enough yet. How do people even deal with  _this_?" I realized that I was crying, again. "It feels like being underwater, waiting for break the surface so you can breathe again, but it never gets closer. Neither of them are stable, and I honestly don't even know what that means!"

"They will be."  _That's_  what I needed, the over the top Pierce optimism. Even if Lizzie was usually a wiseass, she  _did_  inherit the same sunny outlook as my wife. "The baby gained an ounce, they're going to let Britt start pumping for her and-"

"Shit!" I cut her off, realizing where I was supposed to be. "Liz what time is it? I have to go back to Brittany's room."

Running down the hall, I wrapped a hairband around my unbrushed, wet hair and cursed myself for not keeping things straight in my head and wasting time in the bathroom. When I made it to the room, the nurse was already there, speaking to a very confused looking Brittany.

"I'm so sorry I'm late, Britt." I sat down beside her on the bed and put my hand over hers. There was a flinch, an  _almost_  imperceptible one, but I caught it, and Britt tightened her grip on her own thigh. I looked over to the nurse and gave her an apologetic look. "Hey."

"Hi, I was just telling Brittany how giving the baby breast milk through her feeding tube will help protect her from stomach infections."

"You don't have to  _convince_  her." I snapped, hating when people talked about the  _what ifs_  and scared Brittany more. "She already made a decision, Dr. Singh gave her the go ahead to start, so please, just tell her how to do this."

The nurse gave me what was either a sympathetic or dirty look, I wasn't sure. She launched into her lecture, and I looked at Brittany. Her lips were pursed and her forehead scrunched up, concentrating intently. When she was finally done with her  _unnecessarily_  detailed explanation of how to operate a breast pump, she left us alone in the room and I helped Britt set herself up.

"How are you doing, baby?" I asked her.

"I don't know." She said flatly. "Ouch. God. It hurts."

"What can I do?"

The tears started back up almost instantly and she was starting to sweat. There was a look of determination on her face, but my concern was rising. Silently, I watched her for several minutes, knowing there was nothing I could do to help. Her body was still so sensitive from all she went through, and her face suddenly contorted into a grimace as she ripped the pump away from her chest.

"I can't! I  _can't_  do it! It hurts too much!" She sobbed, and I pulled her head against my chest.

"It's okay, shhh, it's okay." I gathered her hair off of her damp face and pulled it into a ponytail. "Just relax."

"I..."

She was crying too hard to speak, from so much more than just the pain. With one hand, I rubbed her back, and with the other I grabbed the icepack from the bedside table and held it against her breasts. I wasn't sure if the gasp she let out was from pain or relief, but I cradled her like that, whispering how much I loved her.

"I can't relax,  _Santana_. I can't see the baby, I can't even mange to feed her so she doesn't get sick." I was going to find that nurse and fucking  _kill_  her. She was about to see the wrath of Snix. "I feel so useless right now and everything just hurts."

"Britt-Britt, nothing about you is useless." I kissed her nose and rested my forehead on hers. "You know I love you so much, and that I never lie to you. You're already an incredible mom. You don't have to be in the same room as Little Bean for that, you're in here fighting so you can be with her  _forever,_  and that's more important right now. If you want to keep trying to do this, you'll try again tomorrow, but hurting yourself in the process is not good for either of you."

"Please." She begged, clutching my shirt. "Make all of this hurting go away,"

I didn't know if she meant the physical of emotional pain, all of the medication was  _seriously_  screwing with Brittany's entire system. All I wanted to do was kick, scream, cry and hurt someone, but none of those things would even make this situation any better. If I could have been the one in her place, I would have taken it in a second. Brittany was sunshine and goodness, and her feelings of guilt, anger and sadness were destroying me. Susan peeked in the room, and I nodded for her to come in.

"Your mom is here." I told Britt and she lifted her head from my chest. "I'll give her some time with you."

Susan sat down in the chair beside the bed, and I kissed the top of Britt's head before letting her go and walking out the door. Ten feet down the hall, Mamí was waiting for me and I threw my arms around her and let myself cry against her body. She pulled me in close to her and combed her fingers through my messy hair.

"Mamí." I sobbed, a desperate tone in my voice. "I don't know what to do. I'm trying so hard, but I just don't know what to do for either of them."

"Shhh,  _mija_ , you're doing everything you can."

"I'm going to kill that lactation nurse. I swear, she's at the top of my list right now. Britt thinks the baby is going to get sick now because she's having trouble pumping. I just hate seeing her so sad."

"I know  _mi amor_ , but she's getting better."

"Emotionally, she's getting  _worse_. I think now is the right time for you to talk to her."

"I don't know, Santana, Susan is in there now, I don't want to step on any toes."

"No, she's right." Susan stepped out of Brittany's room. "Brittany asked me to leave, she said she wants to be alone with her failure."

" _Dios mio_. I'll see what I can do."

My mother squeezed me tightly and I wiped my face on her shirt like a child before she pulled away. Susan went to find her husband, and I leaned against the wall outside of Brittany's room after Mamí went inside. Of course I was going to eavesdrop, I needed to be able to run in there after Britt needed me.

"Hey  _habichuela_. Can we talk?"

"Why?" Brittany's voice was shaky.

"Because I think I understand what you're going through better than you may think I do."

Brittany didn't respond, and I heard Mamí sit down on the bed beside her.

"Give me a chance, okay?" Britt must have nodded, because my mother continued speaking. "When you were younger, you always wanted to hear stories about Little Santana. I probably knew that you loved her, even then, with how interested you were in hearing about my daughter when she was a child. But there is a story I've never told you, a story I've never even told Santana."

My interest piqued at that.

"Javí and I were so excited when I got pregnant with Santana. We had waited  _so_  long to get married, because he was this amazing up and coming surgeon. But once we were married, it happened right away, and you know how incredible it feels to have this little life depending on you for everything, sleeping underneath your heart. I don't think anything in the world could have made me happier."

Oh, I was crying, that was a big surprise. I was starting to wonder if someone was slipping  _me_  something that made me a complete emotional basket case.

"I was thirty-four weeks pregnant when I knew that something was wrong." I heard Brittany gasp. "I was all alone in our big house, my mother had passed a few years before, and I had no friends in Lima. I called Javí and he told me call an ambulance and he would be waiting for me in the ambulance bay when I got there. So I did, and the contractions got worse as I was being transported all by myself and terrified."

There was shuffling on the bed, and I figured Brittany was hugging my mother, allowing someone else into the no touch bubble she had created.

"Ten minutes, I was at the hospital when this frantic, angry baby came into the world." They both laughed. Of course I was frantic and angry, some things never change. "I guess she would have been undersized anyway, even if I'd carried to term, but Santana wasn't much bigger than your little girl when she was born, four pounds even. And she was terribly jaundiced and looked incredibly sick."

"But she's so strong." Brittany cut in.

"I know she is, and that's why she made it. She was fighting since the day she was born, and she hasn't stopped. But you know what, I couldn't see any of that on the day she was born. All I could see was that my child was sick, and I was supposed to be the one that kept her well. I went to see her once, in the NICU, and it was just too much for me. So I went back to bed, and I hated myself more than I ever had."

Oh God, maybe eavesdropping wasn't the best idea. My chest was tight and I leaned further into the wall.

"Javí had to go back to work after a few hours, of course, but I still couldn't even look at that baby. The nurses took good care of her, my husband came to see her at every opportunity, but I went home, and when I came to the hospital, I didn't go in to see her. I didn't feel like I  _deserved_  my child, and when it was finally time for Santana to come home, I knew I couldn't do it alone. Javí hired a baby nurse to come, and I stayed in my room, drowning in my sadness while the nurse took care of the baby."

I had a baby nurse? I was so shocked to hear that.

"Six months, Brittany. Six months that woman took care of my daughter. I'd catch a glimpse from across the room, maybe, but whenever I tried to hold her, I broke down. I got some help, finally, and realized that it wasn't my fault that she she was born early and sick. But in those six months, I missed her first smiles, her efforts to crawl, the chance to bond with her. It breaks my heart, even now, knowing that I missed that time."

"It wasn't your fault though, that she was born like that."

"Exactly. Brittany, you're my second daughter, and I love you dearly, but you need to know that your daughter came into this world the way she did for a reason, and she is going to fight like my Santana did and she  _will_  be okay.  _Pero, por los gracia de dios_ , we say. But for the grace of God, your baby survived, and will keep surviving. And you're not going to want to miss a moment of her amazing life."

"I just want it to get easier." Britt's word's were muffled, and I knew she was being held tight by my mother. I was eternally grateful that she could offer my wife something that I couldn't. Something that could help her get through this.

"It will, and some day, you'll want another little one. And when my hard headed daughter insists on being the one to carry it, you need to remember that it's not because she doesn't  _trust_  you, or thinks you're to blame for  _any_  of this. It's because she loves you with all that she has, and she'll be terrified that you'll get hurt again."

"Thank you, Maribel." Brittany said earnestly. "And I'm sorry you went through that."

"It's long past, and after everything, I still got my beautiful daughter. And thanks to her, I also have another beautiful daughter who just gave birth to my tiny, perfect granddaughter."

It was such a beautiful moment they were sharing, but it was all becoming too overwhelming and I stepped away from the door. I needed to go for a walk, I needed to breathe air that wasn't filtered through the hospital ventilation system, I needed to feel  _something_ , but I wasn't quite sure what. So I inhaled deeply, and made my way out of the hospital for the first time in three days.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Te amo, bebé: I love you, baby.
> 
> Habichuela: String bean
> 
> Pero, por los gracia de dios: But for the grace of God (A proverb from the 16th Century, attributed to John Bradford)


	32. Exceptions

It wasn't where I was supposed to end up. Except I did. I was supposed to keep it together. Except I couldn't. I was just supposed to go for a walk. Except I didn't. When I was stuck in the hospital, I thought I was suffocating, but it turned out, the minute I stepped outside those doors, the doors to the building that held my sick wife and child, that's when the air could no longer flow into my lungs.

So I walked. I walked about a half of a block until I found a place that would make me feel like I wasn't gasping for breath anymore. And that's how I ended up where I wasn't supposed to be. Forty-five minutes later, I was laying with my head on a two-hundred-fifty year old mahogany bar staring sideways at a tumbler of tequila. My hand was balled into a fist, and I periodically tapped on the wood. Yeah, it really wasn't where I was supposed to end up.

The itch started as soon as I saw the blood in the toilet, what felt like weeks ago, but it had only been seventy-six hours before. That tiny twinge had grown steadily every time Brittany cried, every time the baby gasped for breath, every time someone asked me how I was doing. Eventually, it completely consumed me, but I still ignored it. Until I was outside the hospital and I felt like nothing was stopping me from scratching it.

It was so easy, but it was also so hard. I thought of the starting line of that crappy Robert Frost poem that Kurt used to quote whenever he had to make any kind of stupid decision in his life,  _Two roads diverged in a yellow wood_. This was the divergent point for me, on one side, the glass sitting on the bar, calling out to me like one of those potions in  _Alice in Wonderland_ , the glass that could be emptied in a matter of moments. On the other, Brittany, probably sleeping in her hospital bed, the baby, sleeping in hers, two things that wouldn't,  _couldn't_  be gone in moments.

I squeezed my fist tighter, knowing what was inside, knowing what had kept me from downing the drink instantly. There was a point in my life where the dark magnetic pull towards tequila was the strongest thing I would let myself feel. But all of that changed one-hundred-eighteen days ago, when a force much lighter, and oh so much stronger regained her hold. I unclenched my fist and looked down at what was inside. Brittany's rings, the ones I had taken from her finger for safekeeping before she went into surgery. The rings that had clinked against my own when I'd dug in my bag to find money to pay for my drunk. I had taken them so they wouldn't be lost, turns out, having them were the reminder that had kept me from getting lost. My eyes were crying, but I could hardly feel tears anymore.

"Santana." The voice came from beside me, and I picked up my head and turned my bar stool in that direction.

"Finn. How did you find me?"

"I searched where I wanted you to find you the least."

"If it helps, I didn't want to find myself here either."

Finn looked at me, not even with disbelief, he just stared, waiting for me to react. But I didn't react, I just looked between him and the glass, feeling for one second like I had complete control over a situation. Neither of us moved, and Finn never took his eyes off of me.

"How much have you had?" He asked.

"Why does it matter?"

"Because I know how this is going to go. If you've had one drink, you're feeling incredibly guilty, and the only thing that will temper the guilt is another. Two drinks, you're angry, or angrier, at the world than you already rightfully were. Three, the anger has subsided a little, but you'll start to get weepy and hysterical. You'll be inconsolable pretty quickly, and then there is no turning back."

I couldn't stop myself from throwing myself at Finn, and he caught me, wrapping his arms around my body that was already shaking. For three days, I'd cried most of the time, but I hadn't really broken. There, in some crappy bar on 2nd Avenue, being held by the man who'd already saved my life once before, every emotion seeped from inside me. I couldn't stop sobbing, and I didn't even want to. The pain was like poison under my skin, and I needed to release it.

"I can't." I didn't even know what I couldn't do.  _Breathe? Hurt? Stop?_

Finn threw money on the bar and picked me up and carried me out of that place. This man that I trusted so implicitly didn't let go of me and I didn't let go of him. He was some kind of raft in this terrible storm. He wasn't like the others, he wouldn't force me to talk, he would wait there with me until I was ready. It could have been minutes or hours, I wasn't sure, but once my body stopped its spasming, I dropped my feet down to the pavement and stood facing my friend.

"No matter what, Brittany will forgive you, Santana. That's not what I'm worried about, I'm worried about you forgiving yourself. Please, you know that I'm here for you, always, but you can't let yourself spiral. This time, there's too much at stake."

It wasn't like what Puck had said offhandedly once in high school that pissed me off;  _In Brittany's eyes, Satan can do no wrong_. Except that wasn't true, it could be further from the truth. Brittany knew there was plenty I could, and did, do wrong. Finn was right, he knew what it was like to love someone despite their imperfections. We don't love someone because they're perfect, when we love them, it doesn't matter that they aren't.  _Perfect doesn't matter_. She'd even said it in our wedding vows. She would have forgiven me if I'd made that grave mistake, but Finn was also right about the other thing too, taking even one sip would have sent me on a downward spiral of guilt and shame.

" _I have promises to keep, and miles to go before I sleep_." I mumbled, mostly to myself. From that other Frost poem, one that didn't suck. That was more of my truth, to stay on this long road and keep the promises I'd made to both myself and my wife.

"What?"

"Nothing. Finn, I didn't do it."

"What?" He repeated.

"I didn't have a drink. That glass you saw on the bar, that was the first one I ordered. But I couldn't drink it."

He let out a breath that he had obviously been holding, and he wrapped his arms back around me. I could hear him sniffing back tears, and the gravity of the situation really hit me. Finn probably remembered better than I did what I'd been like when I was drinking. The yelling, the hatred, the cutting off of my friends at a moment's notice. I never wanted to be that person again. For the sake of the two blondes who held my heart, for the sake of myself, I could never allow myself to be.

"I'm glad. God, you don't even know how glad I am right now that you didn't. You scared the shit out of me when I saw you sitting there."

"I know. I scared the shit out of me too. I came too close, Finn. It's just..."

"Hard." He finished for me. "Let me help you."

I didn't fight against Finn's help, I needed it more than I could have imagined. He was turning the key to my apartment door before I'd even processed where he was taking me. I wanted to close my eyes, avoid seeing the scene that Britt and I had left the last time we were in there, but I didn't have to. My eyes scanned the entire space, and someone (probably Rachel) had obviously changed the sheets, made the bed, cleaned up the floor. There was no blood, no haphazard tossing of clothes and towels, and I was grateful.

"You should take a shower. I'll make you something to eat."

"Finn, you don't have to-"

"You're right, I don't. But I'm going to."

It was good that he was forcing me to behave like a human. I needed to wash the smell of that bar off of me, put on new clothes, get back to the place I was supposed to be. Hot water cascaded over me and I couldn't remember the last time bathing felt this good. Sure, washing myself in the hospital bathroom had removed some of the sweat and grime from my body, but nothing beat this full immersion.

It's kind of amazing how a shower can change your outlook on things. After twenty minutes, I got out and wrapped myself in a towel. While I sat braiding my hair, my eyes scanned the apartment again. My girls were going to get though this, they were going to come home with me and we would all snuggle on the couch, read bedtime stories in the baby's room, have family dinners, temper tantrums, fights, hugs and kisses, everything.

After putting clothes on, I pocketed Britt's cellphone that was still sitting on the nightstand and took a quick peek at Finn who was standing at the stove before slipping into the nursery. Opening the top dresser drawer, I pulled out a few of the smallest outfits I could find. A sleeper with happy ducks, one with crabs (Britt thought it was funny to buy it when I was in a "crabby" mood at Babies R Us) and a pair of tiny green pants and the onesie Kurt had found that said  _My Mommies are Hot_. Everything else would be huge, even by the time Little Bean was ready for clothes, but I was glad to have something we could eventually put her in. I folded the clothes back up and brought them into the living room to bring back to the hospital.

"Dinner's ready." Finn announced, placing a grilled cheese sandwich and a bowl of alphabet soup on the table. It actually made me smile, remembering the last time we had alphabet soup, and Brittany spelled out messages to me without the consonants to see if I could still read them.

"Thanks, Finnocence." I mumbled through a mouthful of grilled cheese. "For everything."

"You're welcome. Promise me you'll take better care of yourself?"

"I will." God, this food was so good. I couldn't even remember the last time I ate. "My girls need me to."

"They do. You know, I'm not sure if I'm supposed to say this or not, but congratulations."

"You're allowed to say it. No matter how crazy everything is over there, Brittany still had a baby. Somewhere under all the messed up parts, it needs to be a happy occasion."

We sat there in silence for a while, and at some point Finn got up and made me a bowl of ice cream. This was really good, having food in my body. Even without sleep, I felt like I could power through.

"Have you talked to the Evans'?" He asked me, almost guiltily.

"I haven't. Maybe I'm just a really shitty person, but I asked Britt's mom to do it. I know I should have called myself, after how nice they were to me back in Ohio. But how do you tell two people who just lost their son that the only link they have left to him is fighting for her life?"

"I get it. And I think it's probably better for everyone if you wait until you're less emotional to talk to them."

"I just hope they don't feel like I've betrayed the trust they put in me, you know?"

"They know what grief feels like, I'm sure they understand where your head is right now."

Showered and fed, I returned to the hospital with a much clearer perspective. Avoiding the commotion that always seemed to be happening in the waiting room, I slipped into the NICU and was thrilled to see that the baby was awake. Her little foot was tapping against the plastic of the incubator and I smiled, picturing her tap dancing in a few years. She was looking off into the distance at first, captivated by the flickering light outside the window, but eventually, she seemed to catch my eye.

Quickly, I snapped a picture with Britt's phone and set it as her wallpaper, replacing the one of the two of us grinning in our wedding dresses. When Brittany saw this one of the baby, looking, though I'm partial, even more adorable than normal, she would be thrilled.

" _Hola, bebé_. You slept most of the day away again. I guess you're pretty bored, stuck in here, huh? I'm sorry I was gone for so long, your silly Mamí had to deal with a few things. What do you say we read a story, before you go ahead and fall back to sleep?"

I pulled one of the books that I'd left on the windowsill and sat down in the rocker beside the baby. Slowly, I read, pausing to stare at her tiny face after every page. Her forehead was scrunched up again, like she was thinking, and I took that to mean that she enjoyed our reading time. When I saw her fist ball up and go to her face, I knew she was just about out, so I softened my voice as I read the last page.

" _You're off to great places. Today is your day. Your mountain is waiting. So...get on your way_." I finished. "And there you go, already asleep on me again. I'm sorry, tomorrow I'll try to be more exciting, maybe perform a dance number for you? Will that keep your attention sleepy-head? I love you, baby girl,  _dulces sueños_."

I kissed my fingertips and placed my hand inside the plastic pocket, pressing those same fingers gently against the baby's chest. For a few more minutes, I watched her there, looking so peaceful in sleep, even with the machines clicking and beeping beside her. Other parents were milling about, whispering to their partners, deciding their course of action for the night. A twinge of jealousy hit me, but I quickly swallowed it. Soon enough, there would be two of us sitting here.

When I reached the door to Brittany's room, she gave me a look that made my heart melt. There was a marked improvement in her demeanor, thanks, I figured, to her talk with my mother. I smiled shyly at her, and she held out her arms for me. She wasn't supposed to know what had transpired while I was gone. Except that she was my Brittany, and she always knew. She probably felt it in her bones, just like I could when something was amiss with her.

I didn't hesitate before softly kissing her lips and letting her wrap her arms around me. She held me tight, tighter than she had in a long time, and I knew in that moment that she felt the same need that I was feeling. Before dropping my bag to the floor, I dug in the pocket for her rings, and carefully slid them back onto her left finger.

"I just want to squeeze you." She said softly, her chin resting on the top of my head.

"Please do, but don't hurt yourself."

"You know how much I love you, right?"

"I do, as much as I love you."

It took a minute for me to realize that she wasn't just holding me so tight because she realized I needed that, she also was remembering what my mother said. She was picturing helpless baby Santana, and helpless Little Bean, offering a silent prayer that she too would grow up, love someone completely, make crazy mistakes, but all in all, have a beautiful life. I hugged Brittany back, not as tight, only because of her condition, but joining in the solidarity of those hopes for our daughter. Sometime later, still entwined with Britt in that tiny hospital bed, I actually let myself fall asleep.


	33. Magic and Miracles

Brittany always talked about magic, my mother always talked about miracles. Honestly, I wasn't sure what the difference was, or if that difference even mattered. All I really knew, was that I woke up to Britt absently stroking my hair in her hospital bed on the sixth day of our daughter's life, something in the air had completely changed, something big was about to happen.

When I looked over at Brittany, she was already awake and staring at the screen of her phone.

"No Internet research, remember?" I smiled at her. We had made a promise to let the doctors talk about anything medical. I'd already scared myself throughout Britt's entire pregnancy by using using WebMD as a viable medical source, I  _wouldn't_  do it again.

"I remember. Besides, you know I don't want to read anything scary. I'm just looking at the pictures you took yesterday." She met my lips with hers and I put my hand against her chest. "I'm glad you slept again San, you look much better today."

"So do you." And it was true, she was looking so much more  _Brittany_  than she did even late the night before. "How are you feeling?"

"Not so bad today. Honestly, I'd really like to eat something."

That was a first, Britt had been pretty much refusing food since her surgery, and I felt hope flicker in my chest. I got up from her bed and stepped back so I could really look at her. Her eyes were that clear ocean blue again, and I could even see a tiny smile playing at the corners of her mouth. She was teasing me in her head for my unabashed staring, and I actually wanted to cry upon seeing a glimpse of the  _real_  Brittany again.

"What do you want to eat? They're not going to bring you breakfast for another hour, I'll go out and get you something."

"You don't have to-"

"Britt, you know I'm going to go anyway, just tell me what you want." I grinned.

"What do I always want for breakfast?"

Of  _course_ , how would I not have guessed that the first meal Brittany would want to eat would be chocolate chip pancakes? I let Claudine, Britt's hilariously sassy nurse on duty, know where I was going before running to the diner down the block. When I came back with pancakes and a can of whipped cream (okay, sick Brittany had  _possibly_  made me even more whipped than I was before) Britt was sitting up in bed obviously waiting extremely impatiently.

"Breakfast is served." I sat down next to her on the bed and opened the containers.

"You even brought me a whole can of whipped cream? Do you know how much I love you?"

"I think you've told me once or twice."

Brittany dug into the food and snuck every few bites into my mouth. It was impossible not to have a positive outlook on the day, watching her finally eat and seeing her actually smile. We had spend a lot of the past few days FaceTiming between rooms and allowing her to spend as much time as possible with the baby, even if she still hadn't been able to actually meet her. It seemed to be helping her recovery significantly, and as of the night before, Dr. Singh agreed with me.

I'd also tracked down another lactation nurse, one that was  _not_  spawned from the devil. She actually treated Britt like a ( _shocker_ ) human being, not a milk machine, and there was definitely progress with her pumping. Though it wasn't much, it was being mixed in with the formula in Little Bean's feeding tube, and Brittany was so happy to be able to do that for her. Just as Britt stuck a forkful of pancakes in my mouth, Claudine walked in and rolled her eyes.

"Can you two  _try_  to be a little less adorable? You're making me jealous that only have my dog to go home to at night, and every other spouse is extremely pissed at you, Santana, for making them look bad." Claudine joked.

"They should all step up their game then. Don't they know how they're supposed to treat their wives?" I asked innocently, lightly kissing the whipped cream from Brittany's lips.

"Oh, enough already." Claudine faked seriousness, but winked. "Anyway, Brittany, I'm here to see if you want to take a shower."

"A shower?" Britt's eyes lit up, it would be the first time that she'd be allowed out of her bed.

"Yes! Of course I do!"

"Britt." I said softly, knowing where her mind had already gone. "Don't get your hopes up, okay? I don't want you to get upset."

The truth was, my hopes were up too. If she was allowed out of bed to shower, why couldn't she be out of bed to go down the hallway? I tried to keep my face neutral, not wanting to give away that I was thinking the same thing. It was obvious in my eyes though, and Claudine shook her head at me. Brittany was trying not to bounce on the bed in her excitement and I squeezed her hand to try to calm her down.

"I can help her shower." I informed Claudine.

"Are you kidding me right now? Contrary to what you may think, we actually  _are_  running a hospital here and although your friend Rachel Berry has thrown her name around quite a bit for things, we do have to follow  _some_  protocol." She chuckled, Claudine was one of the few nurses that actually thought it was funny how Rachel used her notoriety for our special treatment. Normally I hated when she did that, but for once, it was out to good use. "Go see your baby, let me do my job in here."

Britt still had a huge smile on her face when I kissed her forehead and turned on my heels to leave the room.  _Please, please, please let today be the day_ , I begged silently. It was how I started off my morning every day, with that prayer, but the fact that Brittany was out of bed and in the shower made me hope even harder. It was only 6:45 in the morning, so our usual crowd of onlookers wouldn't be in the waiting room for a few hours, and I was able to slip quietly into the NICU.

"Hey there,  _mija_. I'm so glad you're awake. You look a little bigger today, I think. Guess what? Mama is taking a shower right now, and I think that means she's getting closer and closer to meeting you in person. I know we've talked to her lots, but just wait until you get to see her. I promise you, there's no one in the world who is better than your Mama. Should we read another story before you fall back to sleep?"

I really did love reading to her. It was probably ridiculous, but I imagined that she could understand the stories and they would take her somewhere far away from the craziness of the hospital. When I was younger, I loved when my mother read to me. Now, knowing what I knew about my earliest days, the memories of reading with Mamí meant even more to me. As I read, I watched the rise and fall of the baby's chest and I let my voice drown out the buzzing of the machines.

" _Max stepped into his private boat and waved good-bye and sailed back over a year and in and out of weeks and through the day and into the night of his very own room where he found his supper waiting for him and it was still hot._ " I finished, and closed the book. "You made it through a whole book without falling asleep,  _mi amor_ , that's awesome!"

When the baby fell back to sleep, I went back to Brittany's room and she was sitting on the bed in a pair of sweatpants and an oversized v-neck t-shirt. Her smile was bright when I walked through the door, and I sat down with her and grabbed my hairbrush out of my bag. Gently, I combed through the knots and twisted her hair into two French braids.

"I feel more like a person again, in regular clothes." She sighed. "Maybe Dr. Singh will notice that."

"Brittany." I moved so I could look into her eyes. "I know how badly you want this, but it's going to break both of our hearts if we get excited before we know what the doctor says."

"I know, San. I'm really trying not to. It just really feels like I've been stuck in here  _forever_." She stuck out her bottom lip, and it was really a good thing I wasn't the doctor, or Britt would already be down the hall,  _ready or not_.

"Hello ladies!" Dr. Singh sing-songed as she walked in the room. Everyone was in an exceptionally good mood.

I watched Britt as she made all kinds of efforts to look healthy, and I smiled. It didn't really matter so much how she  _looked_ , what mattered was the blood work and the results of the sonogram she'd had, but it was still cute to watch her try. Dr. Singh leaned over, checking her heart rate and blood pressure, which was strange, since she normally had a nurse do that. Brittany lifted her shirt so she could check the incision, and I caught a glimpse. It really  _was_  looking well.

"Well..." Brittany stared at the doctor expectantly when she was finished.

"Your tests look good, you seem to be healing extremely well. Most likely, it's because your body was in such incredible shape when you came in here, but whatever the reason, your recovery is happening more quickly than I had expected. You're definitely not ready to be released, but I think that it's time you meet that beautiful daughter of yours."

"Seriously?" Tears were pouring from Brittany's eyes, and I felt wetness against my own cheeks. It was really about to happen.

"Yes, I'm serious. But you can't overdo it. Let's start with an hour, and we will go from there."

"Oh thank you, thank you so much Dr. Singh!" Britt cried.

"Santana, I'm holding you responsible for making sure she doesn't strain herself."

"I'm on it." I swore, resisting the urge to cross my fingers over my heart.

When Dr. Singh left the room, an orderly brought in a wheelchair and I insisted on being the one to help Britt into it. The moment was going to be our first as a family, and I wanted it to just be us for _every_  step. Brittany was actually wiggling with excitement, and I squeezed her arms to settle her. Once she was comfortable, I tried not to run down the hall pushing the chair.

I couldn't keep myself from crying as I pushed her towards our daughter's incubator and slid my hand around Brittany's waist to help her stand up. She exhaled sharply as she gazed down at the tiny girl, who was staring up at us directly. Britt rested her head on my shoulder, and I could feel the soft cries that were escaping her throat.

"Hi Little Bean." She said shakily. "I can't even- I mean- I've waited so long to meet you, sweet girl, I can't even believed this is happening. It's me, Mama, I hope you can remember my voice, although maybe it sounds different from the outside. You're so incredibly perfect, I can't even believe that you came from inside of me. I love you, so, so much."

I steadied Britt as she cried, and I gave her a minute to compose herself. I knew exactly what she was feeling, this insane swelling of her heart, this desire to spend every second for the rest of her life watching and protecting our beautiful, perfect baby girl. She squeezed my free hand, and I kissed her gently on the forehead.

"I'm here too,  _mija_." I told the baby. "The day has finally come, the day when both of your moms get to be in this room with you. This is our family, everything we've ever wanted."

A lump formed in my throat as so much emotion filled my chest. I didn't know who I wanted to look at more, my daughter who was staring up at her Mama for the first time, or my wife, who looked like she was about the burst from pure joy. It was magic, or a miracle maybe, watching the silent, beautiful interaction between the two of them, and I could have watched it forever, but Dr. Kellen came up beside us and broke the spell.

"Hello L-P family!" He grinned. "Brittany, I'm so glad you're up and out of bed for this news."

"For what news?" I asked.

"I never tell the parents of my patients this until the time comes, because I don't want anyone to get upset if it doesn't work out. But with my babies born under thirty weeks, as long as the have no overt life threatening problems, we can start kangaroo care after their fifth day."

"Kangaroo care?" Brittany looked at Dr. Kellen skeptically, and I mirrored her look. That was the one downside of not doing any online research, I never had a clue what the doctors were talking about.

"Skin to skin contact between the child and their parents. What I'm saying is that you get to hold your daughter."

My heart may have burst in that moment, I wasn't entirely sure. Brittany's knees were shaking, and I quickly pulled her in front of me and used my own body to steady hers. Everything felt surreal, and I tried to keep my emotions in check while Dr. Kellen explained the procedure to us. We were allowed to  _touch_  our daughter. Brittany was out of bed, and we were allowed to  _hold_  the baby. It was  _more_ than a good day.

I helped Britt over to the sink, and we scrubbed our hands before sitting down together in an oversized arm chair. Two nurses were at the incubator shuffling wires before carefully moving our impossibly small newborn daughter towards us. My wet eyes caught Brittany's, silently telling her that she would be first. She'd longed for this moment for so long, and it was here.

Gently, our Little Bean was nestled under Brittany's shirt with her tiny blonde head poking out the top. I snuggled close to Britt, my face inches from the baby's, and I let myself cry the happiest tears that may have ever come out of my eyes. Suddenly, I was overtaken by a desire I hadn't felt in more than three years. The desire to express myself in a way that used to come so natural to me, with music. Before I could second guess myself, I started humming, and then singing softly.

_I was a little girl_

_Alone in my little world_

_Who dreamed of a little home for me._

_I played pretend between the trees,_

_And fed my houseguests bark and leaves,_

_And laughed in my pretty bed of green._

My head was pressed against Brittany's as I allowed the words to tumble out of me, and her eyes darted back and forth between the two of us. You're singing, she mouthed, awed. The baby pursed her lips and wrinkled her nose as Britt softly ran her hand over her back. My wife was trying to keep herself from becoming an emotional mess, but how could she not, holding her child for the first time?

_I had a dream_

_That I could fly_

_From the highest swing._

_I had a dream._

My hand reached out, almost of it's own free will and touched the tiny hand that had worked its way out from under Brittany's shirt. Her skin seemed so thin, like some kind of fairy, but I was glad that it still felt warm, even outside of her temperature controlled oasis. Together, both mine and the baby's hand moved over Brittany's heart and I felt the soft, steady beat that held us together.

_Long walks in the dark_

_Through woods grown behind the park,_

_I asked God who I'm supposed to be._

_The stars smiled down on me,_

_God answered in silent reverie._

_I said a prayer and fell asleep._

My voice became more confident as I continued singing the song I'd written on that sleepless night what felt like an eternity ago. It may have been written before she was even born, but I think it was always meant for the tiny girl who had fallen asleep against my wife's chest. It was like all time before that moment has ceased to exist, it was the beginning of something absolutely incredible.

_I had a dream_

_That I could fly_

_From the highest tree._

_I had a dream._

"Beautiful." Brittany whispered as I finished.

"Beautiful." I echoed, speaking of the two blonde girls beside me.

"I know her name."

"What is it?" I'd been waiting for it for almost a week, I knew there would be a magical moment where her name just  _happened_.

"Annalise." Her voice was almost reverent. "It means  _graced_. Your mom said something to me the other day that made me think of it, and now holding her like this, I think that's her name."

"Annalise Samantha." I said, and Britt smiled at me, agreeing with my choice for her middle name.  _For Sam_. "And we'll call her Annie."

I knew we didn't have much time left, Little Bean,  _Annalise_ , would have to continue her slumber back in the plastic bubble, and Britt would have to go rest back in her room. For this one tiny pocket of time though, we could exist outside of everything that was necessary, together. For our tiny, unexpected family, moments like our first as a whole would always be miraculous and magical.

 


	34. Distance

It was late, sometime after eleven on the ninth day since we arrived at the hospital. Brittany was curled up beside me in the hospital bed, she probably should have been sleeping, but she was most definitely  _not_. I watched her carefully as she picked at her fingernails, her bottom lip between her teeth, obviously deep in thought. She was thinking exactly what I was thinking, that she would  _finally_ be discharged the next day, that she could  _finally_ go home.

That was good news, fantastic news, really, but there was a catch, wasn't there always? Brittany was well enough to go home,  _just Brittany_. According to Dr. Kellen, Annalise had weeks, maybe even months, before she could join us. With Britt's things packed up to leave, we no longer had a room that was a few hundred feet from our daughter. My stomach turned, thinking of how scary it was to be just down the hall from her, how much  _scarier_  it would be to be in our apartment ten whole blocks away.

"I don't think I'm well enough to go home." Brittany said softly. I had been absently drawing shapes with my fingers up and down her arm, and I stopped to catch her hand with my own.

"I'm scared too." I told her, an obvious answer for what she meant but wasn't saying. She looked over at me with those big blue eyes that were filled with tears and I brushed my thumb under them, wiping the wetness that threatened to fall.

"But think, now no one can tell you how often you can be with Annalise. You won't be a patient anymore, you'll finally just be a  _mom_."

Britt scrunched her forehead, turning over that piece of knowledge in her mind. A small smile came to her lips, and I rested my head against hers. With Brittany no longer a patient, there was a small victory for me. The two pieces of my heart could finally be glued back together. I wouldn't have to choose between my two beautiful blondes, we were all in this together again.

"You should sleep, Britt-Britt. It's late and tomorrow is a busy day."

"So should you. Remember, tomorrow I won't be a patient anymore, so I can take care of  _you_  as much as you've been taking care of me."

* * *

Dr. Singh came in the morning, giving Brittany one final lecture on taking it easy before signing off on the last of her discharge papers. Without even thinking, I'd thrown my arms around the woman, eternally grateful to her for saving both Britt and Annalise's lives. I didn't care if she thought I was a ridiculous ball of emotions. She had probably realized that the first time she met me and I'd cried my eyes out over a heartbeat. Britt ended up putting her arms around both of us, and I heard a soft chuckle from the doctor. Obviously she was new to the Pierce tradition of group hugs.

Finn had offered to take our things home for us, and I accepted on the condition that he stop using all of his vacation time and go back to work. He had hardly left the hospital during visiting hours, and even Rachel had her  _understudy_  performing for her. Kurt and Quinn had cut down their days at work too, and I sort of felt terrible about it. I appreciated that they had uprooted their lives to be there for Brittany and me, really, but they could only see the baby through the glass window, and it had to be time for them to resume some normalcy, even if  _we_  couldn't.

"Are you ready?" Britt asked, after Finn left, entwining her fingers with mine.

"I am. Let's go before one of our moms completely loses it. My bet is on Mamí, she's the original creator of 'going all Lima Heights.'"

"Hey San, you know I know that Lima Heights is not a real place, right?" She giggled.

"Of course I do. But I also know that you'll never tell anyone else."

"Never, ever."

Together, we walked down the hall into the waiting room where our parents were sitting. It was  _finally_  the day they had been waiting so long for, the day where they would get to meet their granddaughter. For Britt and I, it took time before we could let anyone else in our bubble, and truthfully, I was glad that there was a parents and grandparents only rule in the NICU. Our Little Bean was still working so hard to grow, and the people in our lives could be pretty overbearing. It was easier for all of us to take baby steps.

Brittany gave an apologetic look in the direction of both of our fathers and told our moms that they could come first. The two of them nearly tripped over each other in their effort to get to us, and a small laugh escaped my lips. Annalise was already so incredibly loved by all of these people who'd never met her, and I hoped she would soak up all the love in the same way Britt always did. Mamí had her hand on my arm, and Susan had her's on Brittany's back as we walked in and over to the baby.

"Morning sunshine." Britt said softly, her hand in mine, as the two of us stood together first before her. "We have some super special people for you to meet today. Don't be scared, they aren't new doctors, they're your grandparents."

"They're so excited to meet you  _mija_." I added. "Make sure you show them all how cute you are, so they don't think I'm lying."

Britt pulled her mom forward, and I followed suit. I stepped back, wanting to watch them see this beautiful baby for the first time. Neither of them spoke for a long time, they just stared, awestruck, watching Annie gurgle and blink. Her breathing was much better, and I was glad that they (especially Mamí) didn't have to watch her as she struggled for breath. Brittany leaned back into me, and I wrapped my arms around her as we took in the scene before us.

"You look just like your Mama." Susan finally breathed, wiping the tears that formed. "I'm your Grammy and I'm so excited to finally see your tiny, beautiful face in person. I don't even know what else to say to you, I'm just so amazed. I love you, Annalise, oh so much. And trust me, when you're big enough, we will teach you all about how to give our super awesome hugs."

"I'm your _Abuela, corazoncita. Bebé, tu es milagro_." Mamí, like me, did better expressing herself in Spanish sometimes. " _Annalise, tu es mas pequeño que su Mamí. Mantente fuerte siempre_. I want to watch you grow up, little one, see you do beautiful things.  _Te amo, mi nieta._ "

I gently unwound my arms from Brittany, and threw them around my mother. She was both amazed and devastated at the same time. _Mamí, soy mayor ahora. No estés con cuidado, ella también lo hára_ , I whispered to her.  _I'm grown up now. Don't worry, she will too_. Britt and Susan were watching us, their own arms wrapped around each other. We all stood like that, around the baby for nearly a half an hour, three generations of women clinging to each other.

It was easier with our fathers, they kept themselves strong and mumbled a few words to Annalise before they started to feel uncomfortable in the room.  _Men_ , I laughed, though honesty, I was glad there were no more tears. Before they took their leave, each wrapped us in a hug.  _Estoy orgulloso di ti_ , Papí had whispered, and I heard Stephen say the same in English to Britt,  _I'm proud of you_.

* * *

Annalise was sleeping on my chest after everyone had left, and Britt had her head on my shoulder whispering to her. The tiny weight of her body terrified me, like I could break her at any second, but I also couldn't get enough of our cuddle time. It was amazing how someone so small take up so much space in my heart. Back in Lima, I'd felt like the Grinch at the end of the story with his heart growing three sizes, but since Annie's birth, I'd swore mine really grew a hundred. It was the only way I could possibly fit all the love I had for her, and all the extra that had grown for Brittany.

"What are you thinking about?" Britt whispered, carefully moving her head so she wasn't speaking right in the baby's ear.

"The Grinch."

"Oh." She turned so her eyes met mine, and I knew she understood what I was talking about. "I'm glad I know now that heart attacks aren't from loving too much, because I swear, I would have had so many by now."

"I understand why you thought that though, my heart actually aches from how much I love you both."

The look that Brittany gave me in that moment actually brought tears to my eyes. Not that it took much anymore. Maybe it was sympathetic hormones, because I had never seen anyone who wasn't pregnant, recently pregnant or  _Rachel Berry_  cry so much. I pressed the softest kiss on Britt's lips, and I felt her smile against my mouth.

"I was thinking, Britt. I know Little Bean still has a long road ahead of her, but she really has this ability to make people feel happy..."

"Blonde magical powers." She grinned.

" _Always_  the blonde magical powers, and I'm exceptionally powerless to them."

"Yeah, you're  _so_  screwed."

"Oh I know, I've been screwed since the day I met you. But anyway, what I was thinking about was Sam's parents."

"I've been thinking about them all day today." Britt admitted. "We really need to call them. I'm just really having a hard time thinking about upsetting them."

Annie picked that time to scrunch up her forehead and wrinkle her nose, causing both of us to stop talking and smile down. She was obviously using her powers to make a point. It didn't matter that she was small, attached to tubes or still pretty sick, that baby had the ability to make people smile.

"Well, looks like our daughter has spoken." Britt giggled softly.

Once one of the nurses came to put Annalise back in her bed, Brittany and I slipped hand in hand into the hallway. She took her phone out of her pocket, and we stared at each other, each silently calming the others' nerves before she started dialing. Once it was ringing, she switched the call to speaker phone and I glanced around, wondering if (not for the first time) someone would comment on our  _inappropriate cellphone use_.

"Hello?" Penny Evans answered.

"Hi Penny. It's me, Brittany. And Santana's here too. I'm sorry we haven't called sooner, things have just been-"

"Brittany, I understand. Your mom told me what happened, how are you feeling sweetheart?"

"Much better, thank you. They just released me from the hospital today."

They talked back and forth for several minutes and I stood there dumbly, not knowing when it was appropriate to speak. This was still weird for me, as accepting as they had been about everything. Even when Britt had spoke to Penny and let her know we were married, they sounded genuinely happy for her, for us. They were  _really_  good people, and I was terrified to disappoint them.

"Penny." I finally said. "We would really like you to come visit, whenever you'd like. You, John, the kids. Just call me and I'll make the arrangements. We'll take care of everything."

"Santana, dear, we can't expect that of you."

"It's not an expectation, Annalise met her other grandparents today, and trust me, that little girl cannot get enough love. She's amazing, and we want you to meet her, whenever you're ready."

"Annalise." Penny repeated. "I didn't even think to ask you her name."

"Annalise Samantha." Britt said, her voice almost a whisper.

I could hear Sam's mom start to cry and Britt squeezed my hand tightly. It was heartbreaking, but I knew that there was  _some_  degree of happiness behind those tears. Happy that her granddaughter was still alive, doing really well under the circumstances. Penny promised to talk to John about coming to New York, and I wished she had the ability to FaceTime with us. After hanging up, Brittany sent her some pictures, and Penny sent one back of the whole Evans family for us to print and hang with the others that we'd hung around Annie's incubator. More love for her to soak up, she really could never have too much.

* * *

It took a long time for Brittany and I to force ourselves to leave the hospital on that first night. One of us kept turning back, whispering one more goodnight, checking in with the nurses one last time, blowing another kiss. It was after eleven when we finally climbed in a cab, Britt not having the energy, and me not having the emotional capacity to walk home. Back at the apartment, we stood outside the door for twenty minutes, debating whether or not we should turn around. It was the exhaustion that I saw in Britt's eyes, exhaustion I knew was mirrored in my own, that finally forced me to turn the key and walk inside.

We changed silently into pajamas, and I had to avoid looking at Britt. I knew that the moment I did, my composure would shatter. Brittany slid under the blankets and I climbed in after her. When I wrapped my arms around her, she lost herself and I followed immediately after. I didn't want to feel so heartbroken on the first night, but those short blocks felt like an eternity separating us from the baby. I felt like I was holding my lifeline, as long as Britt was in my arms, I wouldn't completely fall apart.

"I'm sorry San." She whimpered against my chest. "I  _really_  tried to not cry."

"So did I, B." I sniffled. "I thought if I could keep it together, we would be okay tonight."

"I know it's stupid, we aren't even in her room at night, but I miss her."

"It's not  _stupid_. I miss her too. And tonight's the first night we aren't there, so for tonight, it's okay to cry. We'll try again to be strong tomorrow."

"Hold on to me." She pleaded, squeezing me tighter against her.

"I am. I promise."

Arms still around Britt, I set the alarm on my phone. It was just a few hours, then we would be back at the hospital. Until then, I let our bodies meld together until I wasn't sure where mine ended and Brittany's began. Even with her sore body and not completely healed wound, she curled herself into me. Our hearts were pressed together, and once they started to beat in sync, we were both able to fall into fitful sleeps.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> corazoncita: sweetheart
> 
> tu es milagro: you are a miracle
> 
> tu es mas pequeño que su Mamí: you're smaller than your Mamí was
> 
> Mantete fuerte siempre: always stay strong
> 
> mi nieta: my granddaughter
> 
> soy mayor ahora. No estés con cuidado, ella también lo hára: I'm grown up now. Don't worry, she will too.
> 
> Estoy orgulloso di ti: I'm proud of you


	35. Firsts

For a long time, I had been extremely insecure. In high school, it had been about my sexuality, after coming to New York, it was about my job, the fact that I hadn't made anything of myself, and  _after_ , it was about my fears and my scars. I'd always hidden my insecurity behind vicious words and threats, so everyone but the people closest to me thought I was invincible. It's funny how quickly insecurities can disappear when there is something so much more important on your mind. It didn't take me long after Annalise was born to realize all of those things no longer mattered. Watching every ounce she gained, waiting for the day she could eat on her own,  _breathe_  on her own, be held whenever we wanted to hold her, come home with us, that's what really meant something in the world.

Brittany and I learned quickly the magic of firsts. Ridiculous television commercials always show babies saying their first words or taking their first steps, but they never tell you about every first parents take for granted. Obviously, none of those ads are geared towards parents of preemies. We waited with bated breath for every single first, the two of us curled up in the oversized arm chair that became more our home than our apartment. Me, working on the rewrites for the album I just wanted to be through with, Britt reading  _The Secrets of the Baby Whisperer_  (which totally didn't count as research, because there was nothing scary inside).

* * *

When Annie was thirteen days old, the biggest first of her short life came. The baby looked like a koala, her arms splayed out across Brittany's chest sleeping peacefully. She was wearing a purple hat that actually fit her, one of the dozens that Kurt had somehow used his connections to procure. I was, of course, cuddled up as closely as I could with them, my left leg over Britt's right one and my head tucked into her neck, when Dr. Kellen came in.

"Good morning ladies." He said cheerily. "Miss Annalise, that's a pretty new hat you have there."

I gave him a big smile, I loved that he actually talked to her like she was a  _person_. She stirred a little against Brittany, and I ran my hand over her back. As of that morning, Little Bean was 3 pounds 4 ounces, and maybe no one else noticed it, but Britt and I could see how different she looked from the weight gain.

"Doesn't she look big?" Brittany smiled at him.

"She does, indeed." He answered. "And I have some great news for all of you this morning. Annie's oxygen saturation levels are at almost ninety percent, we're ready to take her off oxygen today."

We were stunned, in the best way possible. Dr. Collins lifted the baby from Britt's arms, and the two of us untangled from our snuggle position and stood holding each other as her oxygen was disconnected and the tube was removed from under her nose. Watching her first breaths, we both held ours, in absolute awe. My eyes flickered from Brittany's to Annalise's, and I thought about all the times in my life that I'd forgotten to breathe. After watching those impossibly small breaths, I didn't think I could ever forget again.

That same night, another first came. The first time Brittany and I didn't cry ourselves to sleep in bed at home. Annie had taken a gigantic leap towards recovery, she was so much closer to being there with us.

* * *

At twenty-one days, my favorite first came. I had been going out of my mind with the absurd requests of Nick Harlowe, and was trying to keep from losing my temper over an email he'd sent about one of the songs. Sensing my impending implosion, Britt grabbed one of the baby's books off of the window and then grabbed my hand and tugged until I was in a standing position.

"Read Lord Tubbington in the Hat with me." She pleaded. I absolutely  _adored_  how every book with a cat became Tubbs in her mind.

"Okay, you be the cat, I'll be the fish and we'll switch off with the rest."

"Perfect!"

We began reading, Brittany wildly gesticulating like The Cat in the Hat and me with an exaggerated scowl and a hand on my hip like the fish. Not unlike most other days, we were met with the stares of other parents in the room. The looks were never unkind, they just watched our antics and sometimes, one of us caught the hint of a smile from someone else. Britt was giggling almost uncontrollably as she did her part, staring down at Annalise who stared up, eyes wide.

" _No! No! Make that cat go away! Tell Tubbs in the Hat you do not want to play. He should not be here. He should not be about. He should not be here when your mother is ou_ t." I made my voice much deeper than normal, mimicking the grumpy fish in the story, and stifled my own laugh as I tried to keep in character.

" _My tricks are not bad. Why, we can have lots of good fun, if you wish, with a game that I call UP UP UP with a fish!_ " Brittany lifted her arm up, palm flat, like she was holding a fish bowl. I pictured the actual Lord Tubbington doing the same, and I burst out in laughter.

" _Put me down! Put me down, this is no fun at all! Put me down, I do NOT wish to fall_."

Neither of us could control our laughter long enough to keep reading, and I tossed the book over to our chair. Brittany grabbed me from behind, wrapping her arms around my waist and resting her chin on my shoulder. Every time she giggled, I felt it on the small of my back and I started laughing again. Annalise was blinking more than I'd ever seen her blink, probably trying to make sense of her crazy mothers. And then it happened. Her nose wrinkled up, and across her tiny lips spread a smile. A  _smile_! An actual smile!

"Oh my God, B." I breathed.

"She's smiling. Is this real?"

"I think it is."

_Our_  smiles reached so far past our eyes, and I had probably never smiled that wide. Happy tears started leaking down my face, and I heard a sniffle from Brittany. We didn't move, not wanting the baby to stop. It was only a few seconds, and then of course, she fell back to sleep, but that short period of time was absolutely  _perfect._  I turned myself around in Brittany's arms and moved my hands to wrap around her neck. She pressed her lips to mine, and I felt like I was absorbing  _her_  smile too. We didn't need to take a picture of that moment, it was permanently burned in my brain as one of the best in my life.

* * *

Our families went back to Lima after the Fourth of July. Lizzie made everyone promise that she would be the first to hold Annalise the next time she saw us, since she still hadn't been able to even see her in person, and no one would deny her that. Having a daughter of our own, Britt and I both held our own moms even tighter before they left, promising pictures and phone calls every day.

Our dads were easier, they were still extremely awkward about how to handle it all. They hugged us, of course, and Papí handed me the keys to a new Honda Civic. Apparently he and Stephen had done their research and decided it was the safest car. Yeah, men  _definitely_  deal with things differently than women.

"You'll need it now." Papí told me. "Don't pick doctors for her because they're close, find the best ones there are."

"This is just your way of getting us back home more often." I'd tried to joke, but thought about what my father was saying. Having a car  _would_  make it easier to take the baby to all the doctors she would undoubtedly need.

"Well, none of us will say no to that either."

"Thank you, all of you." I smiled to our family. I was going to miss them more than I ever had.

* * *

On July 17th, I was the first one to wake up. Britt's hand was on my chest, but she had rolled out of my embrace and was lying flat on her back, blankets kicked off. I'd forgotten to turn the air conditioner on before we'd passed out the night before, and sweat beaded on Brittany's forehead. My hand moved up its own accord and wiped her brow and she stirred slightly.

"Morning." She mumbled, eyes still closed. "Whatcha doing?"

"Not too much, just thinking that you're still just as beautiful now that you're twenty-five."

"Is that so?" She rolled back into me and wrapped her arms around neck. Her lips were on mine, hungrily, almost instantly and her thigh moved between my legs. I groaned, pulling away from her.

"Don't tease." I complained, running my fingers down her chest.

"I'm not teasing." She smirked, a wicked glint in her eye. "The doctor said nothing about  _you_."

"Nope, not happening babe. You know if you get me going, I'm not going to be able to keep my hands off of you. We're waiting."

"You're  _so_  not fun."

"Oh I'm fun, just give it a few more weeks and I'll show you. And Britt-Britt?"

"Yeah?"

"Happy Birthday."

Originally, I'd been planning to have an extravagant birthday celebration for Brittany, since it was the first we'd celebrated together in six years, and our first married, but obviously things had changed. Instead, we sat that morning in Cosmo's Diner eating pancakes and taking the hospital social worker's advice to continue spending time together as a couple, even if it was just for a little while each day. Our hands were linked together under a napkin, our own private joke on how far we had come. While Britt sipped her hot chocolate, I reached into my bag and pulled out her gift and placed it down on the table.

"San." She started, her eyes wide. "You didn't have to get me anything."

"Brittany." My voice was serious. "You've given me everything. Trust me, this can't even compare."

She looked into my eyes and read the degree of gratitude that lay in mine. Then she smiled and pulled the small package into her hands, carefully tearing the paper. I'd secretly shopped online for days trying to find the perfect gift for Brittany, something that wasn't cheesy and generic and when she let out a gasp, I knew I'd found the right gift. It was a tiny bird's nest (or, I liked to think, a  _duck's_ nest) woven of strands of platinum with a pearl egg tucked inside, Annie's birthstone. When she turned it over, she saw Annalise's name and birthday engraved there.

"You know." Britt choked out, trying to keep her emotions in check. "If you weren't so good at writing songs, I'd say you should be a professional jewelry shopper."

"I  _am_  pretty awesome, aren't I?" I laughed.

"The awesomest. I love it. And I love  _you_."

After breakfast, we went back to the hospital and sitting on "our" chair was another wrapped package. I smiled to myself, glad one of the overnight nurses had remembered to put it there for me. Britt didn't notice it at first, she was whispering her good mornings to the baby, but when she did, she looked at me and grinned. I shook my head and pointed over to the baby.

"I guess Little Bean didn't forget your birthday today either."

"Thank you baby girl." She cooed over Annalise, but kept one eye on me.

"You should probably open it."

Brittany let out a breath before opening the package, and with the look on her face when she was finished, I was pretty sure that Annie's gift beat mine. It was something simple, but so incredible. I'd had one of the nurses covertly snap a picture of the three of us in our usual spot. Brittany's and my head pressed together looking down and smiling, the baby on Britt's chest, tiny head sticking out from inside her shirt, and had it framed for her. It had been almost impossible for me to keep it a secret, I was so excited. It was our first family picture.

"Well little one, I guess Mamí taught you how to take my breath away with gifts."

Dr. Kellen came in at some point, and I'd begun to think of him as the bearer of good news. He wished Brittany a happy birthday, and then reminded us both (which I couldn't believe neither of us remembered) that Annalise was marking her  _own_ milestone, it had been a month since she'd come into our world. I couldn't believe that she had been with us for that long already and catching Britt's eye, I could see she was thinking the same thing.

"So, are you ready for some big news?" Dr. Kellen asked us, and we both nodded enthusiastically. "Annalise's sucking and swallowing reflexes tested really well. I want to see how she eats on her own."

I felt like I was going to pass out with joy, and I reached out for Brittany. Dr. Kellen  _definitely_  beat Annalise's  _and_  my birthday gifts with that one. Our notably less tubed baby was handed to Britt, and she looked over to me. I nodded and smiled encouragement to her while one of the nurses pulled a privacy curtain (which I'd never noticed before) around us. Annie nuzzled Brittany's chest, and my hand was over Britt's on her back. I watched, totally wonderstruck as my wife whispered to the baby, allowing her maternal instinct take over, and our incredible daughter nursed for the first time.

After the baby ate and was burped, Britt dropped her head to my shoulder. Little Bean stared up at us with those blue eyes and smiled. I would never get enough of that tiny smile. With one last birthday surprise for Brittany, I pulled the Molly's Cupcake box from my bag. I stuck a candle in the peach cobbler cupcake (with rainbow sprinkles, of course) and held it up to Britt. Though we couldn't light the candle in the NICU, she pretended to blow it out. While Annie snuggled to sleep in her arms, I fed her bites of the cupcake and her eyes sparkled.

"Happy Birthday Britt-Britt." I said softly, kissing her ear. "Happy first month in the world baby girl."

* * *

 


	36. Us Against the World

After Brittany's birthday, things began moving incredibly quickly. Every day seemed to bring some new milestone. Annalise was eating well, gaining weight, and her stats were reading better all the time. Our optimism never wavered, and during the first week of August, a week before Annie was originally due to be born, Dr. Kellen called Britt and I into his office for a conversation.

Our hands were locked together, and I tried to keep the fear from rising up in my chest. Brittany looked at me as a shiver ran down my spine, and her eyes were clouded with uncertainty. We had always spoken to the doctor at the baby's bedside, so being in this office felt wrong. As we sat down across from Dr. Kellen's desk, he gave us a warm smile, and I pulled my bottom lip between my teeth.

"Ladies." He started, eyes wandering between both of our faces. "What's going on? Is everything okay?"

"What? You're the one who called  _us_  in here." I replied indignantly. "How should we know?"

"Oh no, I'm sorry Santana, Brittany. This isn't bad news at all! On the contrary actually, I want to talk to you about plans for Annalise's discharge."

I heard Brittany gasp as she pulled my hand to her chest. Seriously,  _discharge_? It had been seven weeks, and bringing the baby home had felt like such a distant hope. Even though she had topped four pounds and was spending more and more time out of the incubator, we didn't realize how well she was really doing.

"She's maintaining her own body temperature, she's off machines, really, we have no reason to keep her here anymore." The doctor explained.

"When can she come home?" Britt asked, her voice small and full of wonder.

"Tomorrow." Dr. Kellen smiled, and I knew it was reflected on both of our faces.

"But there are a few other things we need to talk about."

I moved my chair closer to Brittany's so I could wrap my arm around her for the things that were always hard to hear. For the millionth time in seven weeks, we listened as Dr. Kellen discussed the possibility of unseen developmental delays, the importance of not comparing Annalise to other babies, giving her all the love and touch we wanted, holding her without worrying about her getting spoiled. He also held out a book of specialists that we may need to take the baby to as she grew, and Britt reached out to grab it. I was too dazed, processing Annie's future, processing that she would be coming home with us, that  _tomorrow_ was no longer some far away hope.

My mind was also on the concerns that we kept hearing. Our daughter might struggle, might be different than the others. But I thought about my beautiful wife, who had always been different, and I loved her  _for_  it, not in spite of it. I thought about myself, who fought so hard against being different that I made myself miserable. I thought about our friends; Kurt, Brittany's original unicorn, who highlighted his differences and who was wildly successful because of it. Rachel, who never let slushie facials and everyone's merciless teasing (unfortunately, I include myself in that group) stop her from becoming a star. Even Finn and Quinn, who defied everyone's expectations to do what they loved.

Words I hadn't thought of in a long time echoed in my head as Dr. Kellen talked about cognitive skills and Early Intervention services,  _I can only be who I are_. Of course, we would do everything in our power to make Little Bean's life as easy as possible, but I wasn't completely terrified by the idea that she might need more of a push to get there. Sure, there would always be people out in the world that would take every opportunity to cut another person down, but I hoped that beautiful girl was born with her Mama's ability to see past what other's think. And if she wasn't, she had a Mamí who wouldn't hesitate to knock some serious sense into  _anyone_  who thought it was okay to tell her she was any less than special.

What really mattered was that she would be raised with people who loved and accepted her no matter what. And that's what we did in our strange little family, we did what I learned from Brittany, embraced our inner unicorn. Annalise survived her traumatic birth, she'd grown in leaps and bounds, and she was coming home, our baby already  _was_  a unicorn.

* * *

That night, we'd actually gone home with  _two_  pieces of good news. Not only were we bringing our baby home in the morning, but Dr. Singh had declared Brittany's recovery complete. Brittany had winked at me from the examination table, and it was like I'd sworn countless times, that woman was going to be the death of me.

In my head, I had made plans for when we got home. We'd shower, have something to eat (no, I wasn't even being wanky about that) and  _then_  go to bed. Yeah, that was all good in theory, but apparently I gave Britt and I a lot more credit in my mind than we really deserved. As soon as I closed the door behind us, that was it. We realized that it was the first time we could really touch each other in seven weeks (four of which, Brittany spent teasing me) and we were on each other. I'm not even sure who moved first, maybe we both did at the same time, controlled by the magnetism that always drew up together.

Our lips met, and Brittany's hands found their way into my hair as mine found their way to her hips, pulling her into me. My heart hammered in my chest as I nipped at her neck, quickly finding the spot I was looking for. She moaned softly, and before I knew it, she was pushing me down on our bed, pulling her shirt up over her head. I couldn't keep my hands to myself, and I reached desperately, wanting her body touching mine again.

"I missed you." She breathed in my ear, and her voice furthered the ache between my thighs. We'd spent almost every moment together for two months, but I knew what she meant, she missed our bodies becoming one.

"Fuck Britt, you're so beautiful. And you're too far away."

She shook her head and tugged at the hem of my shirt. I arched my back so she could take if off and my body ignited when our skin finally touched. In my head, things were going to move slowly and gently, but my body was really not complying with my mind. Everything about our contact was fast, needy, and decidedly  _not_  gentle, but Britt was controlling it, and she knew what her body could handle. Her hands were all over me, and she tugged at my jeans, needing more contact.

"Touch me." She commanded, and I almost came undone.

I snapped out of the reverie I'd slipped into, watching her toss her shorts to the floor and I moved my hand to where she wanted it most. My eyes were locked with Brittany's, as she thrust her hips, trying to control my contact with her. Using my free hand, I grabbed the back of her head and pulled her lips down to mine, sucking and biting her bottom one. Somehow, my pants came off and Britt's long fingers teased at the edge of my panties.

"No. I want to take care of you first." I wasn't even sure if my words came out completely coherent.

"Together." She demanded. "It's better together."

My mouth tried to protest, I  _really_  wanted it to be about Brittany, but my body once again betrayed me the minute those fingers made contact. It was ridiculous how completely powerless I became as soon as she touched me (okay, maybe I was  _always_  weak when it came to Britt). I longed to stare at her, her body had changed so much and was possibly even more beautiful than it had ever been. Still though, we fit together perfectly and she never failed to awe me.

Our lips locked back together, and I kept my eyes open so I could watch hers. I was fighting my inevitable orgasm, demanding my body to cooperate so I could get Britt there first. As she cried out some combination of  _more_ ,  _faster_  and possibly  _fuck_ , I thought I was going to lose the battle with myself. When those words were replaced with my name though, and her eyes rolled back, I let myself shatter beneath her as she collapsed on top of me.

"Holy shit." I panted, feeling like there were no bones in my body.

"Mmhmm." Britt responded, her face buried in my hair.  _Yeah, we still got it._

* * *

"You know," Britt spoke into my ear, waking me from sleep the next morning. "If we could have done that for the past weeks, they may not have felt as impossibly slow."

"You're probably right. And Britt?" I asked, looking at the clock. "Why are we up at 5:17?"

"I woke up on my own, but then I wanted you to be up too. We have some lost time to make up for."

Brittany always was a genius. We  _definitely_  made up for lost time. Then we took a shower, and made up for some more. Finally, at 7:05, we were dressed, standing together in Annalise's room looking through the absurd amount of clothing that Kurt had dropped off. For some reason, it felt important that we pick out the perfect coming home outfit for her, but both of us were overwhelmed by the selection.

"What about this one?" Britt asked, holding up a miniature red white sundress.

"I don't know, do you think she'll be cold?"

"Maybe." Never mind that it was August in New York, and NY1 News listed the day's high at 102 degrees. But NY1 was  _crap_ , for all they knew it could be -10 degrees and a tsunami, we weren't trusting them with the weather on such an important day. "Wait, I know the perfect one!"

After digging through the drawers, Brittany found what she was looking for and turned to me, holding the outfit up with a huge grin on her face. In one hand, she held a white footed sleeper with pink and orange cats all over it, and in her other there was a pink hat with cat ears. I actually had no idea where it came from, but it was definitely the right size, and would keep Annie warm enough. Plus, that look on Britt's face was incredible, so I smiled back and nodded, immediately having my lips attacked by her.

"This is it." Britt announced as we walked out the door. "She's coming home with us today."

* * *

Brittany was bouncing up and down and I felt like I was going to be sick from a combination of excitement and nervousness when we got to the hospital. For the first time, Britt and I stood over Annalise's incubator (which had, I'd noticed, been turned off, and she still felt plenty warm) and changed her diaper and dressed her. She seemed to be swimming, even in the tiny clothes, but there was a small twinge in my heart seeing how grown up she looked dressed in real clothes.

"Thank you, for  _everything_." Britt gushed to Dr. Kellen as he signed off on the final paperwork.

"I'm glad she's ready to go home with you. You ladies have waited long enough for this day, and you're going to do great. I'll see you in my office next week, and don't hesitate to call, any time for anything you need."

"Thank you." I added softly, cradling Annie in my arms. "Ready to go see your home  _mija_?"

We had a very expensive stroller still in the box in the coat closet of our apartment. It wasn't even something we discussed as an option for getting Annalise home (or anywhere for that matter, but I had a feeling it would be awhile before Britt or I were ready to leave with her again) instead, we'd decided I'd carry her in the wrap designed for babies under eight pounds that Finn and Rachel tracked down for us. Holding Annie against my chest, Britt wrapped us up like we'd seen in the YouTube video that we'd watched about four dozen times.

Once Little Bean was secured, Britt picked up the bag that held everything we'd brought with us, plus the diapers and "just in case" preemie formula that the nurses thrust upon us. After wrapping her arm around my waist, Brittany whispered to the baby and we waved one last goodbye to the people who'd been so good to us all for Annie's whole life.

Our walk home was completely uneventful, but we stopped several times just to stare down at our beautiful girl either blinking in the sunlight, yawning or making tiny noises against my chest. When we finally walked in the door to our apartment, it was really the first time the place felt like home again. All the Lopez-Pierce girls were together there for the first time.

"Welcome home, Annalise." Britt whispered, even though she had fallen asleep.

"She's really here with us." I said, amazed.

Our first night was completely uneventful, and Britt and I both decided that we were probably spoiled with how good our baby was. Once we finally felt like we should stop holding her and put her down for the night, we swaddled her and laid her in the Moses Basket at the foot of our bed (I was so glad we'd listened to Kurt and bought it, having her in the nursery seemed like  _miles_  away). With our own exhaustion setting in, Britt and I got ourselves ready and climbed in to bed with our feet against the headboard, heads beside the footboard so we could be closer to Annie.

We'd stared at her for a while, having never spent the night with her so close to us, but I finally snuggled close to Britt and we fell asleep. When Annie woke up to eat, I lay with my head propped on my hand, watching my wife and daughter in the moonlight that seeped in through the window. I'd probably never seen anything as beautiful as that, and although I'd managed to make it through the whole day without crying, tears formed in my eyes. Brittany handed me the baby so I could kiss her goodnight again and tuck her back in the basket, and I also placed a kiss on Britt's forehead.

"I love you baby. I love you Santana." She whispered,

"I love you baby. I love you Brittany." I echoed.

They were it, everything I'd ever wanted. It was the three of us against the world, and no matter what, we would make it though.


	37. Trust

After the incessant ringing of both Brittany's and my phone in the first two days Annalise was home with us, I seriously considered having us change our numbers, and possibly move. I mean seriously, was it really necessary to check in every hour,  _Rachel Berry_? Not that anyone else was all the much better; Kurt insisted on seeing pictures of Annie every time her clothes were changed, Quinn _seriously_  called to find out if we'd set up a college fund yet, Finn wanted to know if we needed anything every time he left home, and even Blaine, who  _never_  called me was sending us well wishes from his photo shoot in LA. And that's not even getting me started on our mothers...

The truth was, even though by noon on our first full day together, I was swearing that Brittany should just set up a permanent live feed of Fondue For  _Three_ : Special Guest, Annalise Lopez-Pierce in our living room, we all really appreciated how much they cared. We had known them all long enough to realize that they expressed their love through obnoxious behavior. Although I still felt nervous to let anyone inside our 700 square foot bubble, Brittany's convincing (although, does it really count as convincing if it's a two second pout and a kiss?) worked, and we invited our excessively obnoxious friends for brunch that Sunday.

I was nervous, I couldn't even lie about that. But they were our people, the ones who'd been there for me, for  _us_  through everything. And I knew Britt was right when she'd told me that we couldn't keep Annie (and ourselves) locked up away from the world forever. Not that I wasn't totally against that idea though, you know, at least for a few years.

"Are you ready,  _mi amor_? There are a whole bunch of people who will be here in a few minutes that have waited- well, not patiently- but they're anxious to meet you." I pressed my lips just under a newly dressed Annie's right eye before handing her off to Brittany so she could eat.

"Are  _we_  ready? Might be the better question, babe." Britt smiled, catching my lips with a quick kiss before I went to the kitchen to put the bagels and coffee out on the table.

"Please, you know we're never really ready for the chaos that comes in with these people. Need I remind you of Lady Music Week and Britney Week 2.0? Or the scene in the restaurant when we told them we were getting married? They all handle emotions in the most inappropriate way possible."

Britt just laughed and she knew that there was a smile behind my eye roll too. When someone knocked softly at the door, I looked over my shoulder to see that Annalise was sleeping in Brittany's arms before opening it. Quinn was standing on the other side with a big pink package in her arms, and as much of a pain in my ass as she was, I was genuinely happy to see her. I put a finger to my lips and gestured over to Brittany who had a huge smile as she waved, and then I grabbed Quinn to hug her.

"Who are you and what have you done with Satan?" She whispered, raising an eyebrow.

"Shut up, Q." I gave her the dirtiest look I could muster, but she saw right through it and rolled her eyes before turning towards Britt and Annalise.

"Wow. She's incredible." Quinn cooed, the awe in her voice apparent. "Britt, she looks even more like you in person than in the pictures."

While Quinn gushed over the baby, I prepared myself for the stampede I could hear at the far end of the hallway. Swinging the door open, I could hear Finn's shushing of Kurt and Rachel as they bounced with excitement towards our apartment door. Finn shook his head at me with a grin as he watched his fiancee and brother nearly burst from excitement. They each hugged me in turn, Finn's lingering a bit longer, before standing over Brittany and looking at her and Annie like they were an exhibit in the zoo.

Britt slid over in the arm chair, and I sat down beside her, brushing my fingers against the baby's cheek. The others finally settled themselves into various seats and Brittany was talking to them. I was silent for awhile, both of my lips sucked into my mouth as I tried to adjust to the situation. It wasn't like I didn't know I was being ridiculous, I just needed time to get my bearings. Annie's tiny cry brought me out of my head, and Britt passed her to me wordlessly.

"Hey  _bella durmiente_. Everyone is here to meet you. Think you can stay awake for that?"

She went to Rachel first, each taking their time holding her, commenting on how good she was, how beautiful, the usual things people say about babies. When Kurt went to pass her to Finn, he shook his head and I raised my eyebrow at him. Taking Annalise back from Kurt, I sat down next to Finn and watched as he smiled tentatively at us.

"I've never held a baby before." He admitted quietly. "I don't want to break her or something."

"You won't break her." I said, although I was surprised, because that was one of my biggest fears when we'd invited everyone over, someone breaking Annie. I mean, she was  _really_  tiny.

"I don't know..."

"Finn, I trust you."

Even though I was looking at Finn, I could feel the eyes of everyone else on me. Except Brittany, I could feel her glaring at our friends, silently telling them to stop making a big deal out of things like that. And they all  _wondered_  why I never expressed affection around them. Every single time I tried, they all looked at me like I had six heads. I knew why they were looking though, I'd never said those words to anyone besides Brittany. They knew, especially Finn, that I trusted them, after everything, but it wasn't something I'd ever managed to say. Finn's eyes met mine and he nodded.

"Annalise, this is your Uncle Finn." I whispered, placing her against Finn's chest and showing him where to put his hands to secure her. She let out a soft whimper and he looked at me nervously. "It's okay, babies cry. Just talk to her. She's a mini-Britt, we can already tell that she actually  _likes_  people."

"Hi baby." Finn started, and Annie wiggled, slightly startled by his deep voice. "You know, you're pretty lucky having all these people who love you so much. I'm so glad to finally meet you."

He kept taking, and I watched, entranced. Brittany sat down on my lap, wrapping her arms around my neck. She was watching me, I noticed, watching me let my guard down like this for the first time. I didn't realize that the other three were staring at us awkwardly until I heard Quinn clear her throat and Rachel stand up.

"So. In the grand tradition of celebrating the happy moments in my life, Kurt and I have prepared a musical number for today."

"You didn't." I glared at her, of  _course_  she did. Brittany totally lost the bet we'd made about whether Rachel would try to sing. I  _so_  called it.

"Annalise needs to see how talented her family is, and also, the best way to show you love someone is with music."

"San." Brittany kissed the palm of my hand. "You know she's not going to let up until she's allowed to sing."

"Yeah, unfortunately I  _do_  know that. Way to ruin a nice moment, Berry."

"I'm enhancing the moment, Santana. And besides, it's like this was made for her."

Rachel grabbed Kurt's hand and they stood up in front of us. I was glad we were at our apartment, and not at Finn and Rachel's. If it was happening on the stage they had in the basement, I would  _not_ be able to stop myself from making fun of them, and I was trying so hard, after my revelation in Dr. Kellen's office. When Rachel started signing, I actually felt the smile crack across my face. I was _definitely_  becoming too soft.

_You've wrapped me around_

_That cute little finger_

_You've made life a song_

_You've made me the singer_

I could tell she was controlling her tendency to belt it out, staring directly at Finn and Annalise. Brittany's chest was shaking against me, and I knew she was stifling the urge to laugh as much as I was. The baby, on the other hand, was looking around curiously and I quickly took a picture. Quinn wasn't even trying to stop herself from laughing, and once Kurt joined in singing, I was totally set off.

_Annie, Annie, Annie_

_Everything's humming now_

_Annie, Annie_

_Good times are coming our way_

"We made this entirely too easy for them." Britt was now laughing openly too.

"It's Kurt and Rachel. We could have named her anything and they would have found a showtune to go with it."

" _How do you solve a problem like Maria_?" Britt mumbled.

" _With a girl like Rosie, how could I be blue_?"

" _The name on everybody's lips is gonna be: Roxie_."

We were seriously in hysterics by that point. It was kind of hard to remember that we actually used to be cool when we were quoting musical lyrics back and forth to each other. But honestly, I didn't even  _want_ to be cool anymore. Maybe I put up a fight about the way my friends loved Broadway and the fact that they burst into song at any opportunity, but sitting in my living room with my wife on my lap, our baby in her uncle's arms, and my completely insane friends singing was the only place I really wanted to be.

When Kurt and Rachel reached the last verse of the song, I heard Finn start singing softly to Annie. Almost immediately after, Quinn and Britt joined in, and to the shock of everyone in the room, I followed them. I had actually forgotten that they didn't know I sang again, since I'd been singing to Britt and the baby every day since that first time. Kurt's eyes went wide, remembering the last time he'd heard me sing, but I smiled at him, letting him know that it was totally fine. Annie was smiling, her head resting carefully against Finn and looking at Britt and I as we all sang.

_I don't need anything,_

_Anything, Anything._

_I don't need anything_

_But you._

After we ate, Kurt had to leave to pick Blaine up at the airport and Quinn was meeting her husband for an early dinner. It was exactly how I'd hoped things would go. Brittany and I wanted to talk to Finn and Rachel alone, and with the baby still nestled against him, they didn't seem to be going anywhere.

"She's really, really fantastic." Rachel said softly, sitting close to Finn. "I mean she's so small and you can already see the vibrance in her eyes."

"I just still can't believe you two are married with a kid." Finn chuckled.

"Stranger things  _have_  happened." I laughed.

Britt looked at me and I nodded to her. I'd expressed enough emotion for the day, she could take over this conversation. I gripped her hand tightly, knowing the magnitude of what she was about to say. These were the two people we'd trust not just with our own lives, but the life of Annalise.

"So." She started. "We talked about this a lot, and although we might offend Quinn and Kurt, we have our reasons behind this decision."

"What decision?" Rachel asked. I gave her the  _shut up and let someone else talk_  look.

"Finn, obviously you are the reason Santana is even here with us right now, and probably the reason I am, because..." Britt trailed off, some things are just too hard to say. "Anyway, you protected her, and we could never be more grateful to that. And Rachel, you took care of her and love her like you own sister. On top of that, you both welcomed me back with open arms and have been nothing but supportive of our relationship."

"And you were there, every minute." I finally spoke, and looked pointedly at Finn. "After Annalise was born and everything felt like it was falling apart."

"What we're asking-"

"Although Rachel." I interrupted with a smirk "You  _almost_  made me regret voting for you,  _again_ , when you started the singing. But I'll admit, it was actually really cool."

"C'mon, serious time, babe." Britt pouted at me. "We'd really like if you would be Annalise's Godparents."

I was impressed that Rachel did not shriek, instead, she started to cry. The both looked at the baby with very serious looks on their faces, and I knew we had made the right decision. Britt was right, I literally owed my life to both of them, and the way they'd already proven their love for Annie kind of amazed me. I thought of Finn bringing the cross from my mother to the hospital, doing Internet research, then saving me from myself. And Rachel, getting an understudy, cleaning our apartment, even handling insurance paperwork for me when I was totally incapable of thinking about it. If someone told me seven years earlier that Finn Hudson and Rachel Berry would mean so much to me, I'd have thought they were crazy. Funny how much time and circumstance changes everything.

* * *

That night, after we'd straightened up the apartment and put Annalise to bed, Britt and I were on the couch, my head in her lap. She was playing with my hair, looking down at me with her lovey eyes that always made me feel warm all over. I gave her my special Brittany smile and reached up to touch her cheek.

"I'm really proud of you, Santana."

"For what?"

"For being you, and for letting other people see it. I've always known how special you are, but lately you're actually showing it to other people. The way you were with Finn today, telling him you trust him like that. And not entirely making fun of Rachel and Kurt, it was really nice to watch. It's like the secret Santana has come out. It's like the opposite of Snix. She should have a name...like Santa."

"Britt, we are so not calling my nice personality Santa."

"Why not? It's like you're giving me a present when you act like that." Her face was so earnest, how was I going to say no? As ridiculous as Santa sounded, I guess she kind of had a point. Of course, I was always going to have to fight the urge to make mean, sarcastic comments, but I was surprised how much easier it had become with things the way they were.

"Santa it is then, Britt." I smiled and she leaned down to kiss me. "It's all because of you, you know. You really make me a better person."

"No, you've always been a good person, I just make you show it."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bella durmiente: sleeping beauty


	38. A Better Version Of Myself

" _¿Lo que se supone que debo hacer, Mamí?_ " I shouted into the phone. " _No hemos hablado en siete años_."

My  _abuela_  was dying. Well,  _that_  felt like someone dumped a swimming pool full of water on all of the happiness in my life. I felt sick to my stomach, and I told my mother I had to get off the phone. It was there, the same ache under my ribs that I'd felt more than seven years earlier. An ache that would probably  _always_  be there. The woman who'd meant so much to me had told me that loving the woman who meant even  _more_  was an abomination. And now she was dying. All I'd ever wanted was for her to love me again, and she was  _dying_.

Sitting down on the bed, I pulled my knees to my chest and resisted the urge to start rocking back and forth. If I did that, the tears would come, and I didn't want to cry. Instead, I listened to the sounds in the other room. Brittany singing  _Twinkle Twinkle Little Star,_  the dishwasher running, Annie's tiny gurgling noises, simple pleasures. I wanted to think of something, anything else, but the only place my mind would go was to my grandmother slamming her door in my face.

"Santana, what's wrong?" Concern flooded Brittany's face as she opened the door and looked at mine.

"Nothing. I'm okay." I lied, although I wasn't even sure why. Brittany always saw right through me anyway.

"You're not. You were yelling in Spanish, which means you were talking to your mother. And with one look it you, it's obvious something is wrong." She sat down on the bed and wrapped both of her arms around me. So much for  _not_  crying. Silent tears streamed down my face almost immediately, and Britt rocked me gently. She didn't ask me any more questions, she wouldn't until I was ready to talk. I buried my face in her neck and breathed in her smell to try and calm myself down. Her fingers tapped up and down my back as I listened to her heartbeat.

"She's dying, Britt." I finally lifted my face from her neck and looked in her eyes.

"Who?" I could see the alarm in her eyes.

"My grandmother."

"What? How?"

"Apparently her heart is failing. Although I'm actually shocked she has one." I spat bitterly, tears springing up again.

"Oh San, I'm sorry."

"I just..." I paused to catch my breath. "What am I supposed to do, Britt?"

"You know I can't tell you that. Only you can make that decision. But whatever you decide, you know I support you a hundred percent."

In the end, I made the decision I think Brittany knew I would make. I  _needed_  to go. Maybe it was stupid, especially since the last words she said to me was that she never wanted to see me again, but I needed to try one last time. I tried to protest Britt coming with me, but I knew it was futile. She'd been there in the aftermath the first time, she knew what it did to me, and she knew I'd need her there again.

* * *

The next morning, with what felt like half of our apartment packed (the stress was overtaking me, the only thing that calmed me down was sitting in Annalise's room and making myself useful by figuring out what to bring) we were out on the sidewalk loading it into the car. I kissed Annie softly and tickled her under her chin, breathing in that awesome baby smell before buckling her carseat into the back. Dr. Kellen had insisted it was fine that she traveled, she'd been home three weeks and was two and a half months old, but I still felt nervous. Everything about the situation was unsettling.

"I can drive." Brittany insisted.

"No, it's fine. You hate to drive long distances."

"You hardly slept last night, just let me do something."

"I'm  _fine_." I snapped and got in the driver's seat.

I didn't want to take my anxiety out on Brittany, and I felt terrible as she sat in the passenger seat, staring at her lap. With my left hand on the steering wheel, I took her's with my right and rested them both on my thigh. As I mumbled an apology, she squeezed the exposed skin on my leg and I sighed. This was now the second time driving to Ohio with one of us freaking out in the car.

We were halfway through Pennsylvania before I spoke again. I'd kept my eyes on the road, but listened to Britt talking to Annie, and pulled over wordlessly when I knew she needed to be taken care of. A big part of me was lost in my own head, but there was still a piece that stayed connected to the things that mattered in the here and now. Brittany and Annalise, there was nothing that could take them from me.

"When I was in the hospital, she told my father that she had no granddaughter." I finally admitted, breaking my silence.

Brittany didn't say anything, she knew I wasn't looking for words. Instead, she took the hand that was resting on top of hers and pulled it to her lips, holding it there. It was one of those things she knew how to do, how to make me feel so completely loved with a tiny gesture.

"I don't want you to come to the hospital with me."

"Santana."

"No, Britt. I'm dropping you and the baby at your parents' house. The thought of either of you around her makes me feel physically sick. I have to do this alone."

She didn't protest again, and when we made it to the Pierce's by a little after four, she kissed me goodbye and whispered how much she loved me once more before grabbing the carseat and diaper bag from the back. With one last sad smile on her face, she walked up to the door, and I gave Susan a small wave before backing out of the driveway. My mother-in-law had always understood me in a way that was similar to Brittany, she wouldn't be angry that I didn't even go to the door to say hello, even that was a lot to ask of me in my state of mind.

* * *

When I reached the hospital, I hurried upstairs. I hadn't told my parents that I was coming, mostly because I wasn't sure if I'd turn around and go home halfway through the drive. Mamí was sitting outside of the room when I got there and she jumped up and wrapped her arms around me as soon as she saw me standing there. We didn't speak for a while, just stood there, a lot passing silently between us.

"Where's Papí?"

"He's in there with her. This is difficult for him too."

Ever since I was disowned, my father's relationship with his mother had been almost non-existent. He'd tried, for my sake, to get her to come around, but each time he was left even more frustrated. It made me sad, probably even more so that I had a child of my own, thinking about having to choose between your mother and your daughter. But Papí chose me, just as I knew I would do.

"She's not conscious." Mamí told me.

"Since when?"

"Late last night, after I spoke to you. The doctors say it's only a matter of time."

I fought the urge to be sick. In what felt another life, I'd sat on the stage at McKinley and told everyone that I looked forward to the day when my grandmother would love me again. My naive sixteen year old self ignored the fact that Alma Lopez and I had more in common than I'd like to admit, considering. She was stubborn, bitter and never apologized. I didn't want to be like her, not anymore.

" _Mija._ " My father stepped out of the room and I moved from my mother's arms to his. "You didn't have to come. Are you alone?"

"Brittany and Annie are with Susan. I needed to come, Papí, I have to make peace with this. Can I go in?"

"Of course you can." Probably not the answer my  _abuela_  would have wanted. "Do you want me to come with you?"

"No, I need to do it alone."

Walking in the room to the small, fragile woman in the bed was crushing. There was a time in my life where she had been larger than life to me. She was cruel and tough, but I'd loved her and craved her time all the same. Even after everything, how devastated I was by her shunning, I didn't hate her. I hated how she'd treated me, but I still wished all the time that she would change her mind. Unfortunately, I loved her, I wanted her to know the real me.

I thought maybe she would see, after what had happened to me, but it's possible that it fueled her fire, made her believe even more that some things should be kept secret. It wasn't true though, even if I could go back in time (you know, if Brittany really had built a time machine) I wouldn't keep my truth from the world. Although I'd had great suffering, I'd also been gifted with an even greater love. Being in the room with my grandmother threatened to resurface the shame I'd felt at sixteen, but I was surprised when it didn't. I was comfortable with the person I was, and the fact that I was gay wasn't my defining characteristic.

" _Abuela_." I started, sitting in the chair at her bedside. God, I was so sick of hospitals. "I miss you. I miss talking to you, watching  _telenovelas_  and laughing at how  _ridículo_  the stories are, but mostly I miss you  _knowing_ me. For years, I told you more than I told most people, and I felt like you understood me, I felt like you were so much like me. Until they day you couldn't understand anymore, and you pushed me away. I know what that's like, to try to push something away that's hard for you. I did it to myself for a long time. Then I made progress, with Brittany, but when she was gone, I did it again."

I looked at her expectantly, like my words had some kind of miraculous powers that would wake her from her sleep. They didn't, but I continued anyway.

"I wish you could see, like I see now, that pushing it away doesn't make it not real. We have to embrace things that make us uncomfortable, find comfort there too. That's what I've learned now, and I wish you could too. I wish you could have been there on my wedding day, to see me marry the beautiful, special woman who I'd give my life for. I wish you'd been able to meet my daughter, my perfect, incredible child. Love isn't selective,  _abuela_ , and that's what I wish most of all, that you had understood that. I don't think you ever stopped loving me, and I hope that isn't just my wishful thinking. Once you love someone, you love them always, but it was too hard for you to see that there were parts of me you didn't like. Trust me, I know what that's like, it's what I feel towards you. The only difference is, what I don't like about you was a choice, what you don't like about me is not."

My throat felt like it was closing, and I absently ran my fingers over my scars. There was still no response from the sleeping woman before me, obviously, but I hoped somehow she was hearing these things, wherever she was.

"I feel sorry for you, you know. You lost years with your only son, your only granddaughter, because you were stubborn. It scares me that I can be stubborn like you, and I'm working on that. I hope, with all of my heart, that once you've gone from this life, you're able to see the light of things. I told you once before that I'm still me, and it's true, I'm just a better version of myself. I'll always miss you, and I'll never hate you, but I'll always be sad that things weren't different for us.  _Te amo, abuela. Vay a con dios._ "

While kissing my grandmother on the cheek, a single tear fell from my eye and landed on her face. Gently, I wiped it away, touching the woman's wrinkled skin for the last time. Quickly, I turned and fled the room, right into the embrace of both of my parents.

* * *

Mamí insisted upon driving me home, and I sat in the car as she went up to the Pierce's door to help Brittany with her things. No one said anything as they got back in the car and we drove to my parent's house. Even Annie, who was asleep, didn't make a noise. It wasn't a comfortable silence, it was thick with unasked and unanswered questions. But I couldn't speak, not just yet.

After unloading the car, still in silence, I sat on the stairs in the house and watched Brittany and my mom in the kitchen, making dinner. Such an ordinary thing to do, but I stared anyway. When Annalise started to cry in her carseat, I went to her, undoing the straps and cradling her in my arms. We sat on the stairs together, rocking to an unheard song, me making silent promises to her. She would always find love and acceptance in her life, no matter what.

"Santanita, can I take her?" My mother asked. Right, she had never held her own granddaughter before.

After kissing the top of Annie's blonde head, I passed her to Mamí and felt Brittany sit down on the stairs beside me as I watched. It was beautiful, and so terribly heartbreaking for me to see my mother looking down at her tiny granddaughter, singing to her with eyes full of love.  _Caracolito, caracolito. Quien te hizo tan chiquitito?_  It was the same lullaby I'd heard my entire life, but it never affected me like this. I had to look away, so I turned and walked up the stairs, blindly making my way to my bedroom.

Only a few moments passed before Britt came in and lied down on the bed beside me. I pulled her close to me and kissed her, needing to feel her against me. Her hands were on my cheeks, and she forced me to open my eyes and look into hers. It's what I needed most, to see the love that filled them, to feel it pouring into me. She would never allow me to break.

"I. Love. You." She told me between kisses.

"Thank you." I whispered to her. "You always know when I especially need to hear it."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

I sighed, maintaining my eye contact with her. I did, and I didn't.

"She's not conscious anymore, so it's too late to hear what I've been hoping to hear from her. I saw her, and it was hard, but I said my piece. I think I'm going to be okay."

"I  _know_  you're going to be okay, my strong, beautiful, amazing wife."

"Can you just hold me for a while?"

It wasn't a question I even needed to ask. Brittany hummed against my head, soothing me into a restful state. All the bad shit in the world was completely worth it when you can feel the pure, whole love of another person. I felt a small sense peace begin to fill my body, maybe I hadn't got what I wished for with my grandmother, but there were other wishes that  _had_  come true.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ¿Lo que se supone que debo hacer?- What am I supposed to do?
> 
> No hemos hablado en siete años- We haven't spoken in seven years.
> 
> Vay a con dios- Go with God


	39. Acceptance and Understanding

It became a waiting game, sitting in Lima with my grandmother still alive, still unconscious, in the hospital. I was struggling, really struggling, with what had happened and what was to come. Although I'd said my goodbyes, as long as her heart kept beating, mine wouldn't give up the futile hope that somehow everything would be reconciled. I didn't go back to the hospital though, I just tried to pass the time in as normal a way as possible.

On the fourth morning that we were in Lima, Brittany lay sleeping beside me. Holding Annalise close to my heart, I watched the rise and fall of my wife's chest. She was being her usual incredible self throughout this entire ordeal, doing everything in her power to make sure I felt safe and loved. Of course, I was also being my usual self, which meant that I was doing what I had worked to hard to control, being distant and closed off. On multiple occasions, I'd snapped at Brittany and then felt her arms around me before the tears of regret could spring to my eyes. I was a  _mess_ , and I needed to control myself.

Leaving Britt to sleep, I brought Annie downstairs with me to make coffee. When I reached the kitchen, Mamí was sitting already sitting at the table with the coffee pot. I grabbed a mug from the cabinet, pouring myself some while holding the baby with one arm. I sat down across from my mother and saw the look on her face. It was a pained look and I felt my heart lurch.

"She's gone, isn't she?"

"Yes."

We didn't speak about it, we just sat there, sipping our coffee. I wasn't even sure what I was feeling, but talking or moving would make it all too real. Instead, I smoothed Annalise's hair, tapped my fingers against the mug, watched Mr. Harrison across the street mowing his lawn. Anything to keep from thinking about the ramifications of what had happened. It would hit me soon enough, I knew, but I wasn't even bracing myself at that point.

"Morning." Brittany said, some time during my third cup of coffee.

I mumbled some kind of response, and Britt rubbed at her chest, taking the baby from me so she could eat. It was just Mamí and me, so she wasn't shy about feeling Annie at the table. Mamí stood silently to make Brittany a cup of tea and I kept my gaze down at the floor. I could feel blue eyes on me, and I knew she knew what had happened but wouldn't speak it until I was ready. Britt's free hand found it's way into mine and she squeezed hard.

"I'm going to go take a shower." I announced, retreating quickly back upstairs. I needed time with my thoughts.

While the hot water ran over my body I felt the anger hit me. My hand gripped the bar on the inside of the shower door, steadying my weak body. It was really  _over_. My  _abuela_  was never going to wake up again, and would really never tell me that she loved me. Rationally, I knew it had already been too late, but the finality of death sealed it. How would I even be capable of mourning it? The tears that left my eyes felt molten, and I rubbed furiously to try and stop them. There was a numbing ache that overtook my body, and I stood there in the shower long after the water ran cold.

"Santana." Brittany was sitting on the bed when I finally came out of the bathroom.

"I  _can't_." It had always been my token response when I wasn't ready to process. Some day, I would actually figure out how to verbalize my emotions properly.

"Come sit." She patted the bed beside her, and still wrapped in a towel, I did.

My head was in my hands and those horrible burning tears kept coming out. I wasn't sobbing, that was the weird thing, I was just being scalded by silent tears. That was probably worse. Brittany kept her hand between my shoulder blades, but didn't move any further. She knew where my head was, she knew I would fight any further physical contact because it would cloud the feelings I didn't want to feel, but needed to.

* * *

It wasn't until later that afternoon that I felt the urge to lash out at anyone in my path. I'd taken a nap and tried to compose myself but my old angry at the world self was trying to take over. After I was outed in high school and rage took over, I'd blamed Snix for my actions, but that had been a lie. Snix was completely fabricated, obviously, the persona I blamed for my vicious words and actions, and in that moment the rage was too real. It was the same rage that was currently coursing through my body, one that had only come three times. The first time after the outing, the second after  _it_  and the third at the news I'd just received. At that point, I wasn't even sure how capable I was of not allowing the monster to take over for good.

"I'm going to start getting things ready for tomorrow." Britt said softly, after entering the bedroom.  _Tomorrow_ , the funeral. Papí hated prolonged death rituals, he wanted it all done and over with as quickly as possible.

"You're not coming."

"Excuse me?"

"I said, you're  _not_  coming. I don't want you to come." I hissed.

"I  _heard_  what you said, Santana. This is not something I'm trying to start a fight over, but I  _am_  coming. You don't get to make this decision for me, I'm your wife, and I'm going to be there with you when you have to do this."

"No." There was venom in my voice and I pushed away her hand that reached out for me.

Brittany wasn't deterred. She grabbed me by the shoulders and forced me to look at her. I didn't want her to look at me, I didn't want her to see all the fear and despair that was swirling inside my head. I didn't want her at a funeral where people might look at her with the same look my grandmother gave me. It would be hard enough having people look at  _me_  like that again, but to have her feel it was something else entirely.

"I don't  _care_  what other people think of me." She said angrily. God, these mind reading abilities really sucked sometimes.

"Well  _I_  care what other people think of you."

"I am your  _wife_ , and proudly so. Ignorant people aren't going to change any of that. God, Santana, I thought we were past all of this. I  _know_  this is hard for you, having this brought back up, but you're not the same person you were when you were seventeen."

"No Britt, you actually  _don't_  know, and I never want you to. I need to go for a walk. And I need to take the baby with me."

Brittany knew why I needed Annalise to be with me, I needed her to ground me, to keep me from doing anything stupid. She didn't stop me as I secured the baby in the wrap against my chest, allowing her tiny heart to beat close to mine. It was hard, but I had to get away from Britt for a few minutes. She was going to force me to deal with things, and I just needed a little more time before I did. Of _course_  I wanted her with me at my grandmother's funeral. I wanted her to keep her hand locked with mine and remind me that she would always love me no matter what. But it scared me too much.

"Let's go pretty girl." I murmured against Annie's blonde hair, trying to keep my voice even and prevent my anxiety from radiating into her. "Just you and Mamí on a tour of my old neighborhood."

Although I didn't really have a direction in mind, I ended up at The Lima Bean. Looking around, it was still exactly the same as it had been when I was in high school. That was the thing about Lima, nothing ever changed, especially not the people. My walk had calmed my mind slightly, and I sat down at a table, unwrapping Annalise so I could watch her movements.

I was upset that Brittany and I had fought, even more so because I knew she just wanted to do what was best for me. There were just too many feelings that were resurfacing, and pushing people away was my go-to method of handling them. I just wanted this done and over, I wanted to go home to my happy bubble with my wife and daughter. If only real life would just stop cutting in. Struggling, I looked in Annie's sleepy eyes, the same eyes as her Mama's. I wanted Brittany, I wanted her to tear my walls back down.

Looking at the time, I sent Britt a text message;

**_At The Lima Bean. Can you come get us? I'm sorry._ **

I wanted her to wrap her arms around me and help me handle this. I couldn't push her away right now, this was hard enough. She was there ten minutes later, and I avoided her eyes again, feeling shame for the way I'd behaved. We were nearly silent on the way home, but when we got inside, Mamí took the baby and Britt and I went out to sit on the porch.

"I'm really sorry for yelling at you." I said quietly, picking at my cuticles.

"I'm sorry too."

"You shouldn't be. You're right, you're my wife and I need you there with me. It's just that this is bringing up a lot for me, and not just my  _abuela's_  words, but  _everything_." She understood the implications of that word, because anything remotely connected brought back horrible memories of that night. "It's terrifying to me that you, and even Annalise, might some day have to deal with something bad."

"Santana." Brittany's hand found mine. "You have to stop carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders. And you have to trust that I know the world can be cruel, but I don't care what anyone else thinks of me, or you, or anything we have. These people, who you don't even know, or know if they'll say anything at all mean  _nothing_. I understand about other things, I really do, but these people don't matter."

"I know Britt. I think that's a big part of why I freaked out. I'm not as okay with it as you are. I know who I am, but I think that maybe even after all this time I'm still dealing with accepting that and understanding it."

"You are and you always will be. And I am too, accepting yourself is always a work in progress. I know that I've always been really upfront about my feelings, and I don't keep much hidden, especially from you. But at the same time, I know that the world might never be as accepting of us as they should be, and I have trouble understanding why that is. Why there are people who think that a love like ours could possibly be wrong in any way. I worry about what we'll tell our daughter when she comes home from school having heard something mean about her moms. I think that being different in any way is always something that people have trouble accepting and understanding about themselves. But I know that the only right way to be is this."

"I know that too, rationally. I just get caught up in emotions."

"Of course you do. You accept yourself more than you think, honey. And I know that hearing your  _abuela_  say those words might have made you feel like it was easier, but it's still in your heart somewhere."

I rested my head on Brittany's shoulder, processing her words. Brittany really had this incredible self awareness that I could only wish I'd someday find. But she also wasn't completely unwavering in her acceptance of herself, and something about that was comforting. I wasn't the only one who was scared, I was just  _more_  scared, but knowing that she had feelings like mine too somehow made it easier.

* * *

The next morning was hard, but it wasn't as impossible as I would have imagined. Susan stopped by to pick up the baby and wrap me in one of her hugs and then Brittany and I got in the backseat of the car with my parents. My father and I had yet to really speak about  _abuela's_  passing, but I knew he was probably having an even harder time finding the right words to say than I was. We were all silent on the way to the church, but having Brittany's strong hand on my knee kept my calm. I actually don't know what I would have done if she hadn't argued with me about it.

There would be a viewing, and then a mass and burial, and I had no idea who would show up. Accepting a hug from my father as he walked with my mother to the front of the church, I sat down beside Brittany in the very last row. Her fingers were laced with mine, and I held on to her like she was my last saving grace. I could do it, I could get through the day.

As people began to shuffle in and make their way up to view the body of my grandmother, I knew I had to do the same. Brittany walked me to the front of the church and passed me to the arms of my parents as she stood back and watched me say my final goodbyes. My father's arm was around my waist, and my mother held my hand to her chest. I didn't cry as I looked down at the lifeless body of the woman who'd taught me so much. How to cook, how to throw a punch, every curse word in the Spanish language that my parents didn't want me to know, and so much more. I was here to mourn for  _that_  woman. I pressed my fingers to my lips and touched her cheek one last time before I turned around into Brittany's open arms.

"I'm okay." I told her, as she held me close.

"I know. But I've still got you."

* * *

The rest of it was such a blur, I hardly even processed her body being lowered into the ground. I kept my head down, making sure I couldn't hear if anything was said about Brittany and I. I was in was _Lima_ , my life was in New York, I had to forget the ignorance in the town I came from, Britt was right. Afterwards, we went back home, just the four of us, to Susan and Stephen, who had already come back with Annie.

Britt and I sat alone for awhile with the baby, and I really felt surprisingly okay. Maybe it was was my mother had always spoken about, people having clarity in the afterlife. If that was the case, I knew my grandmother was seeing now that there was nothing shameful about who I was. The thought of that made accepting her death a little easier.

" _Mija_." My father peeked into the living room where we were sitting. "Can we walk?"

"Of course, Papí." I kissed Brittany and the baby before getting up to join my father outside. We used to do this when I was very young and he came home early from work, walk together and have long conversations.

"How are you doing Santanita?" He asked me.

"I'm okay. Yesterday I freaked out a lot, but Brittany helped me see things clear again."

"She's a smart girl, that wife of yours." He smiled at me.

"The smartest." I smiled back. "How are you though?"

"I'm hanging in there  _mi amor._  I'm sorry I haven't had much time to talk to you." I nodded and grabbed his arm, letting him know that I understood. "I just want to remind you how much your mother and I love you, and how proud we really are of you. You've become an incredible woman, even with the really hard things that have happened to you."

"Papí-"

"No, let me finish. Always remember that nothing could ever change the way we love you. And your  _abuela_ , she was from a different time. I'm not making an excuse for her, you know how I feel about what happened, but I know that she still loved you, even if she would never admit it."

" _Gracias_."

I hugged my father tightly, something I hadn't really done in a long time. We didn't often communicate well without my mother present, but I saw how hard he'd struggled to find the right words to express how he was feeling. I didn't let go for a while, I wanted to remember this moment, the first real understanding he and I had in years. He was a good man, my father, and he was like me, he never said serious things unless he truly believed them. So I was taking his word for it about  _abuela_ , and I felt like it, along with her, could finally be put to rest.


	40. Clarity

We went back to New York, and for the first week at home, I was so clingy that I even annoyed myself. I felt like some part of me had to be touching Brittany or Annie at all times to keep myself from getting lost in grief. My grief wasn't the agonizing, all consuming sadness, but a dull, throbbing ache like the lingering effects of a migraine or the feeling of an old bone injury in the cold weather. In some ways, I felt like that was worse. Flashes of pain I could handle, the other, not as much.

Brittany was Brittany, so she did what she could to keep me grounded, but even I could tell that I was starting to drive her a little nuts. After I'd nearly whimpered when the baby was sleeping and Brittany got up to go to the bathroom, it became pretty obvious that something needed to be done to snap me out of my funk. Even Dr. Collins had told me that I was starting to shut down, and I was afraid of what that meant. I wouldn't let my grief halt all the progress I made, and I knew Britt wouldn't either. So on the Saturday after Labor Day, Britt forced me to get dressed and leave the house with her.

We started walking downtown, Brittany had Annie wrapped to her, but held me close to the two of them. She didn't tell me where we were going, but I didn't care much, as long as I wasn't alone. I smiled, looking at Annie's tiny red and white sun hat, Brittany's fingers tickling her back. My pretty girls, the reason that I needed to keep myself sane. The only problem was, I still wasn't sure exactly how.

I was surprised when we stopped in front of Trinity Church and Brittany took a seat on one of the benches beside the cemetery. Not really the place I would have chosen to cheer me up. Even  _I'm_ not that morbid.

"What are we doing here, Britt? Can we go somewhere else?"

"Just sit with me for a minute." She patted the bench beside her, and what else was I going to do.

"I thought we were going to feed the ducks or something. This is fu-uh-freaking  _weird_."

"Shh. Relax."

We sat there in silence, I played with the hem of my shirt, then tucked Britt's bra strap back under her tank top, fixed one of Annie's socks. My mind wasn't sure how to turn off, and keeping my hands busy didn't help like it usually did. It all felt really unsettling, and I made a motion to stand up. When I did, I was greeted by a familiar face, and in a way that was not at all like me, I nearly leapt into her arms.

"Rosa! What are you doing here?"

"Brittany called me, sounds like you and I need to have a little chat." I looked at Britt, seriously, she was some kind of ninja or something. I don't even know how she managed to get Rosa's number out of my phone and call her when I literally hadn't left her side. "But first, let me see this sweet baby of yours."

Rosa took my place at Brittany's side, speaking softly in Spanish to Annalise. Britt looked at me nervously, wondering if I was angry with her for calling for backup. I wasn't, on the contrary, Rosa may have been the one person that could help me snap out of my head, and someone I never would have thought to call. I gave my genius blonde a small smile, letting her know that I was not at all upset, and a big grin lit up her face.

"Walk with me, Santana." Rosa ordered after several minutes of fawning over the baby.

"We'll be right over here." Brittany urged.

Rosa stood and took my hand in hers. There was something so comforting about the gesture, and I savored the feeling of her wrinkled, age worn hand against mine. She led me towards the gate to the cemetery, and I hesitated for a moment before following her inside.

"Was this your idea, coming here?" I asked her, but I wasn't really sure why I bothered to. I knew Britt well enough to now she wouldn't decide to come to a cemetary on her own.

"It was. I'm not sure why, but I've always found peace in this place. Listen." She stopped speaking so I could. "We are right in between two busy streets, and yet there is still silence and beauty here."

"I'm not really sure I can see the beauty in this creepy old cemetery, Rosa."

"You're not looking hard enough. That's why I wanted to bring you here." She began walking the path between the headstones. "Brittany is very worried about you. What I want to know is how much of a reason you've given her to be."

I sighed. It was hard to be the person who was always driving everyone crazy. Who even knows how Berry hadn't gone off the deep end for being that girl for so many years.

"Probably a lot." I admitted. "I guess I thought I would come back to my life here and feel better, but this sense of loss is much deeper than I thought."

"Santana, you remember the story about my husband, right? Why I started drinking?"

Of course I did. It was one of the most heartbreaking stories I'd ever heard. Rosa's husband was diagnosed with Alzheimer's when he was thirty-nine and was dead before turning fifty. Rosa sat with him every day and he had no idea who he was, who  _she_ was and began drinking to kill the sadness she felt. I couldn't even imagine how I'd cope if that was Brittany and me.

"Do you know what the hardest part about that was?" She asked, knowing by my face that I remembered. I shook my head. "I lost Jorge twice. The first time when he could no longer remember who I was, and the second on the day he died."

"Rosa-" I moved to comfort her.

"No, I'm okay. I'm telling you this because you've lost your  _abuela_  twice. You're not sure how to grieve, because you've already done it once before, so something doesn't seem right."

"Yes!" I nearly shouted, scaring off a few pigeons that were perched on the markers. "That's exactly it."

"Just take your time with it, handle it however it feels right. But don't wallow, that never accomplishes anything."

She patted my arm and we walked in silence for a while. The cemetery wasn't big by any means, so we were basically walking around in circles. I started to see what Rosa meant, about the peace of the place. Reading some of the names and dates on the headstones, I realized that many of the people had been gone for almost two hundred years. Those who'd loved them had long finished their grieving, and if you believed in that kind of thing, they were reunited. I thought again about death bringing clarity, and thought it would be nice if someday  _abuela_  and I were reunited in a place where we understood each other.

"I need to ask you something." Rosa finally said.

"No." It was the answer to the question she hadn't asked.

"Good, that's  _really_  good."

"You know what happened after Annie was born, when I almost made a terrible mistake. It was a wake up call for me. This all hurts me terribly right now, but it's different than the pain you feel when you see your child suffering, your wife suffering. Maybe that gave me a newfound sense of control. I don't know, does that make sense to you?"

"It does, and even if it didn't, so much of your process involves mechanisms that make sense to  _you_. I'm glad you have that little girl, her unexpected presence is really what brought you down the right path."

"Trust me, I know that. I think that's why I had to keep both her and Britt so close to me this week, I needed to remember my reasons for keeping myself well."

"That's great, Santana. It is always great to have your loved ones who give you purpose. But also remember how important it is to be well for yourself. You'll fight with Brittany- and you've got feisty blood like me, so it will probably be your fault, Annalise will drive you  _loca_ , especially when she's a teenager. When things get hard, you have to know that you love yourself as much as you love them."

"Thank you, Rosa. For all of it."

"I'm here for you, any time. Don't ever be afraid to call, even if you just feel like you need to go out and get a cup of coffee or you need someone to come by and sit with the baby so you can get your thoughts together. Anything, I promise you that."

I swallowed the lump in my throat and looked at Rosa. There was a real possibility that she didn't even know how much those words meant to me. It boggled my mind how different New York was from Lima. In New York, a woman who was very close in age to my  _abuela_ , a woman who wore a medal of St. Jude around her neck and prayed the rosary each night, a woman who I'd only met because of a mutual suffering, could accept me for who I was and promise me that she would be a part of my life. That definitely meant more to me than words could ever express.

We walked one last lap around and then back out the gate to where Brittany was sitting. She was deeply involved in one of the stories she was always making up for Annie, and didn't notice we were standing there until I put my hand on her arm. Unlike me, that didn't make her jump ten feet in the air, instead, she just smiled up at me and quickly finished her story.

"Do you want to get lunch?" I asked her and Rosa, and they both nodded.

Once we finally found a place that wasn't too crowded- it seemed like  _everyone_  had stopped going to their summer homes once Labor Day had passed- I helped Britt unwrap the baby and kissed Annie on the head before passing her over to Rosa. I felt my wife's hand on my knee and I placed mine on top. Rosa began singing the same lullaby that my mother had sang to me, and had just been singing to Annalise a few days before. This time though, I didn't get upset and turn to run away, I felt warmth in my heart.

* * *

Later that night, back in the bubble that was our apartment, Britt and I gave the baby her bath and I sat rocking her to sleep while Brittany went to run a bath for us. I loved Annie's bedtime, not because I didn't want her to be with us, but because it became a sweet ritual. We'd bathe her, Britt would feed her and then pass her off to me so I could sit with her, our special Mamí and Annie time. Sometimes Britt would stand in the doorway, silently watching, but others, she'd leave us, knowing I'd be somehow pouring my heart out.

_Sweet dreams form a shade,_

_Over my sweet baby's head._

_Sweet dreams of pleasant streams,_

_By happy silent moon beams_

I sang, always, while I rocked her, and her balled up fist rested against the scars on my chest. Staring down at her, I could feel the healing that Annalise slowly brought to me. I thought about what Rosa said, and while it was true that this baby and her Mama had given me a new found purpose, I really was learning how to love myself again too. How can you not when you want to be someone that the tiny human who means the world to you could look up to?

_Sleep sleep happy child,_

_All creation slept and smiled_

_Sleep sleep, happy sleep._

_While over thee thy mother weep._

The tears fell silently from my eyes as I carried the sleeping bundle to the basket in our bedroom. Kissing her soft head, I breathed in the smell of baby shampoo and lavender lotion. Seriously, someone should bottle the smell of a baby and sell it as some kind of calming remedy. Once Annie was down, she squirmed for a moment and moved her fist up to her cheek before quieting down again. I gave her one last glance before lowering the lights and meeting Brittany in the bathroom.

She was already in the tub, and I quickly took of my clothes and slipped in between her legs. I leaned into Britt's hands as they massaged my shoulders and she rested her chin on my head.

"Thanks." I said quietly.

"You don't have to thank me, ever."

"I know I don't have to, but you're so good Britt. Most of the time I don't know how you even know to do things you do."

"Because it's you, San. You do the same with me, that's how I've always known we were soulmates. Most of the time we know each other even better than we know ourselves."

I thought on that for a few moments, still savoring the feel of her hands on my neck. It wasn't Brittany's dizzying touch like when we were having sex, but it still sent sparks through my body nonetheless. She was right, but it still amazed me that she'd known that Rosa would know all the right things to say, and that I'd feel like I had just the small presence of a grandmother again. Turning my head, I caught Britt's lips with mine and passed all the love I was feeling in that moment over to her.

"I know." She hummed. "I love you too."


	41. Outside the Comfort Zone

We were sitting in traffic on the Belt Parkway, Brittany's hand so tight on my exposed thigh that there was probably a bruise forming. My eyes were locked on the road in front of me, on the same car that hadn't moved more than ten feet in forty-five minutes. Seriously, I'd come to hate being in the car. Living in New York, we walked, we took the subway, or mostly, because I was always getting lazy, we took cabs. But being in the car meant going somewhere outside of my comfort zone, and sitting on the Belt was no different.

I glanced in the rearview mirror to the other mirror in front of Annie's carseat. Through the duel reflection, I could see that she was gurgling happily. My eyes darted to Brittany, and she was bouncing her leg up and down, staring at the traffic. She was as nervous as I was, so I lay my hand over the lighter one on my thigh.

"I should have listened to Kurt. He apparently has some kind of traffic camera in his brain." I groaned. The only reason I was not screaming about the situation was that the baby was in the car. Normally, which Britt knew, I would be on the verge of opening the door and getting out to yell about what was going on. "This is ridiculous. This is  _not_  how I wanted this weekend to start."

"It doesn't even look like it's going to clear up." Britt sounded irritated and sad.

"Ugh." I dropped my head to the steering wheel, it wasn't like we were moving any time soon anyway. "Can't even pick them up at the airport on time. What a disaster."

So maybe I was being a  _little_  dramatic, but it had been a rough morning, a rough  _week_  really in preparation. Annalise woke up extremely irritable in the morning, and had been that way until just before Brittany had strapped her in the carseat. Britt and I had been arguing for almost the entire day, I had been angry with her for soaking the bathroom floor after her shower, she had been angry with me for cleaning the kitchen twice when she needed help with the baby. Of course, Annie fed off the tension between us, and only cried harder. Finally, when I thought  _I_  was going to start crying, Britt demanded a do-over and a stop to the incessant bickering.

John and Penelope Evans were on their way to New York, that's what had us so on edge. I wanted things to go perfectly, I wanted them to see that I was a good mother to their granddaughter, that Brittany and I were doing everything right. And with the traffic we were absolutely going to be late picking them up from the airport. That was going to give them a  _really_  great impression.

"I'm nervous too." Britt told me, reading my thoughts. When she said things like that, it wasn't admonishment for not paying attention to her feelings and getting lost in my own head, it was to comfort me, make me feel like I wasn't alone.

"I know. It's just weird, you know? I want to make a good impression on them."

"You have to stop trying so hard. I mean seriously San, I love you, but if you wiped down the kitchen table one more time this morning, I was going to shake you."

"Hey! I just wanted the apartment to look-"

"Perfect, I know." She giggled a little.

"You're kind of a control freak you know."

_Kind of_? I laughed at that, we both knew that I was more than  _kind of_ a control freak. Rationally, I knew that even if the table was covered in crumbs, there was a puddle on the bathroom floor and the hamper was still overflowing with dirty laundry, it didn't change the kind of mother I was. But I was externalizing my anxiety, desperate for Sam's parents to see, more than hear, that we, that  _I_  was doing a good job.

"Do you think I'll ever stop worrying about-"

"You're never going to stop worrying, period." She cut me off and pulled my palm to her lips. "You're a worrier, it's really cute sometimes. But I also hate when you get yourself so worked up. And you know we basically never eat at our table, right? I'm pretty sure it was clean before the first time you wiped it."

"Shut up." I grinned. "I'm never going to hear the end of this, am I?"

"Probably not." Britt was still holding my hand and kissed my wrist. "We're good at this, Santana, being moms. We're young, and we're learning, but seriously, Annie's happy, safe, loved. Everything else come after. Just relax this weekend, be yourself. You know I think you're the most awesome in the world."

"Except when you're dealing with a crying baby and I'm re-cleaning the kitchen."

"No, even then."

Brittany dropped my hand and unclipped her seatbelt so she could stick her head between our seats to see the baby. I smiled to myself as I took another peek in the mirror. She tucked the blanket around Annie, gave her a kiss and moved back into her own seat.

"You said you were nervous too." I finally said. "Why?"

"Maybe it's stupid." I gave her a look, reminding her not to use that word about herself. "Sorry. I just hope they don't think I haven't been trying hard enough to include them. It's just hard for me, you know."

"That's a totally valid concern. But you  _have_  included them, and I think the way you've gone about it is just right. It's all about their comfort zone, you know?" I waited a moment before asking the question that had been burning in my mind for months. "Do you think, well, um, do you think you would have done things any different if it wasn't for me?"

"No." The degree of surety in her voice was comforting. "I couldn't have had them see Annie when she was so sick, and it would still be just as hard for  _me_  to see them and think about the hard stuff again."

"Okay." I breathed. "Then that's your answer, you've done the right thing. If you had done it because of me, I would feel differently."

"If anything, you've pushed me to be  _better_  about it. I mean you're the one who told me to call them again about coming to New York. You're worried about impressing them, but trust me, you already have."

An hour later, we were finally pulling into JFK, ten minutes before the Evans' flight landed. We actually managed to make it on time, and that made me feel significantly calmer. Picking up people at the airport was such a weird thing to do. I guess maybe it was different back when you could actually meet them at the gate, but after parking the car, we stood awkwardly by the baggage claim. Annie was in my arms, which I was glad for. It felt less uncomfortable than feeling unsure whether or not to hug Sam's mom, or if that was just a one time thing that day in Ohio. Okay, I was using my daughter as a buffer, I'll admit that, but it was easier.

"Penny! John!" Brittany called out, and I looked up from Annie to see them emerging from behind the security gates.

Penelope engulfed Brittany in a huge hug, before reaching out her arms for me. So it wasn't a one time thing, and it actually felt really good that it wasn't. She stopped herself from grabbing me when she realized who I was holding. The look on her face in that instant was beautiful, she was awestruck and enraptured by her granddaughter. No one moved, until Penny looked up to meet my eyes. Her's were so full of love, and I gave her a warm smile and touched her arm.

" _Mija_ , this is your Grandma Penny. Why don't you go ahead and say hello?" I cooed, shifting Annalise into Penny's arms.

"Hi, little one." She brushed her thumb over Annie's little arm. "I'm so happy to finally meet you. You're such a beautiful girl, and you look so much like your Mama. But I see some of my Sam in you too."

I couldn't tear my eyes away from the scene, and hardly heard the other people moving about the airport. Watching the two of them, the gravity of my gratitude to Sam really set in, and for the first time, I was seeing some of him in Annie. Her tiny chin, the way she sometimes squinted her eyes, there were definitely things of his in her face, as much as she looked like Britt. It didn't scare me anymore though, and I thought that some day, when she wanted to know about how she came to be, it would be nice for her to have small reminders of the man she would never know.

* * *

Later that night, we were all sitting in the living room after dinner. John was holding Annie close to him, and I smiled, thinking that he was the only one of her grandfathers that didn't fidget while holding her. She was wide awake, staring at him and he beamed down at her, lost in thought. Penny was flipping through hundreds of pictures we had taken as Brittany narrated each one. I sat back taking it in, enjoying the sense of warmth I had every time I could feel someone else's love for my daughter.

"How is she, medically?" Penny asked quietly, the question that everyone was always scared to vocalize. Brittany looked to me, knowing that she tended to get extremely emotional whenever this topic was breached.

"She's gaining." I started, "At her appointment last week, she was just over nine pounds, so she's now tripled her birth weight. She's still eating and sleeping like a newborn, but that's to be expected for a while. Honesty, a lot of what we need to know is about her cognitive development, but most of that is just wait and see."

"That's great that she's grown so much. I can't imagine her being so small, I mean she seems so tiny now. Sam was almost ten pounds when he was born, and both of my younger ones weren't all that much smaller."

"It was really scary." Brittany admitted. "The first time I held her I was so terrified that she would break. I swear, Santana, if you hadn't started singing I might have panicked."

"You were natural holding her from the beginning though, she snuggled right in like she always knew where she belonged."

Penny was looking between the two of us, and over to John and Annie with a soft smile gracing her face. Slowly, she stood up and went over to her bag, pulling a wrapped package out. When she came back over to us, she sat beside me, place a hand on my arm and handed the gift to me.

"Before you open it, I just want to be honest with both of you girls. When you left Ohio a few months ago, I struggled a little bit. Trust me, I was so happy, Brittany, that you were with this woman you love so much. And Santana, I was grateful to you for your part in everything. But another part of me felt extremely jealous. The things that were happening for you both were the things I'd wanted for Sam since the first time I heard his heart beat."

My stomach rolled a bit, and Brittany's eyes caught mine. I kept them locked with hers, knowing we'd need each other's strength to hear the rest of what Penelope had to say.

"Part of it was because of the baby, but another part was just because you were girls his age, girls he had gone to school with, who were living a life he would never get to live. It took me a lot of time to reconcile that, and for a little while, I considered opting out of having a role in your daughter's life."

This took me by surprise. All of the irrational fears I had about the Evans usually involved them hiring some kind of crazy fundamentalist Christian lawyer and trying to prove that we were unfit parents for Annie because we were two women, then stealing her away. (With my anxiety, I really had to reconsider some of the books I read, because honestly, I was pretty sure that was vaguely the plot of a novel. Although in the book, it may have been embryos, not a real live baby, if that made a difference.) Never had I imagined that  _they_  would remove themselves from Annie's life.

"That might sound selfish, but I thought it would be too hard to see your life with her. I thought it would make the hurt about losing my son even greater. I didn't tell anyone about this, not even John, but I kept making excuses in my head for how I would handle it. Then Brittany, your mom called and told me that she was here, and that you both were struggling to make it."

I felt Penny's grip tighten on my arm.

"I think that snapped me out of what I was thinking, hearing some of the pain I had felt mirrored in Susan's voice. I knew that I really did want to be in her life, and I needed to put aside my grief."

Penny stopped for a minute, pressing her fingertips to her lips. She looked like she was considering whether or not she should have told the truth, gauging our reactions. My eyes flickered over to John who was nodding his head almost imperceptibly, encouraging Penny that she had done the right thing.

"Thank you." Brittany finally told her. "Thank you for being honest with us."

"This isn't a conventional situation, any of it." I added. "But I'd like to be honest too. Having you in Annalise's life means more to us than you know, but Brittany and I were both scared too. She was scared that you would be upset with her for not trying hard enough. I was scared that you wouldn't think I was good enough for Annalise."

"Girls, being in your home, holding the baby, seeing how you both interact with her. And mostly, feeling all the love that's in this apartment, that's all I need to to know that I'm not changing my mind about being here."

It surprised me that I was the one to reach out before Brittany. Gently moving the present off of my lap, I pulled Penny towards me for a hug. We had all been separately feeling emotions that conflicted with the thought process of the others, and now because of Annie, we were a family. Penny stroked my hair and I finally pulled away, squeezing her hand before Brittany took my place.

"I know it's not the same, Penny." Brittany told her. "But Annie's a part of Sam, and I hope you'll be able to witness so many of the things you hoped for him through her."

"I hope so too." She whispered.

"Santana, you could open the gift now. It's nothing big, I just thought Annalise should have it."

Carefully, I ripped the paper and uncovered a careworn quilt, each patch depicting a Dr. Seuss scene.  _I am Sam, Sam I am_ , I thought, and a smile came to my lips. Then I thought of  _Put me down, put me down I do not wish to fall_ , and that amazing night in the hospital.

"I made this for Sam when I was pregnant with him. I thought it might be nice for Annie to have something of his." Annie had my Christening cross, Brittany's stuffed unicorn and now the puzzle was complete, she had Sam's quilt.

"Thank you." Britt and I breathed in unison.

"The first time she smiled, we were reading her  _The Cat in the Hat._ " Brittany looked between Penny and John, overcome with emotion. "This is so amazing."

My fingers traced over the stitches of the fabric, knowing that giving this to us was a huge gesture. The magnitude of Penny's words still had my brain buzzing, but I felt so thankful for her honestly, for confronting her discomfort and choosing to build a relationship with Annalise. My fears about imperfection in their eyes seemed trivial now, the Evans were Annie's family, were our family, and with family, all that matters is love.


	42. Work In Progress

Our weekend with Sam's parents had gone quickly, surprisingly, too quickly. After the initial shock of Penny's confession had worn off, the ease with which we interacted had increased tenfold. They held the baby, loved her, and let her help to heal them. It was a bit of solidarity between them and us, particularly Penny and I, Annalise fixed our wounds that may have never been repaired otherwise.

After dropping Penny and John at the airport (which, I might add, was a completely traffic free experience) and promising that we would see them in Ohio the week of Thanksgiving, we went back to our apartment. Although it wasn't quite the end of September, New York was experiencing the first chill of fall. After putting Annie to bed, I was lying on top of Britt on the couch, letting our warmth radiate into one another. I was deep in thought, playing with the ends of her hair, when Brittany's voice broke me from my trance.

"Are you okay? You've been really quiet for a while."

"I'm just thinking about everything, it's been a pretty crazy weekend." My head was against her chest and I breathed in her scent. The familiar smell of her vanilla sugar scrub now mixed with milk and baby shampoo, and it was, if possible, even more comforting to me. "How are you doing?"

"Honestly? I'm not really sure San." I pushed myself up into a sitting position, and Brittany followed suit. When we were both sitting cross legged on the couch, facing one another, she continued. "I'm really glad that Penny felt comfortable enough to tell us the truth, but I think it brought up some things for me that I thought I had moved past."

"Okay." I nodded, encouraging her to continue.

"It hurt me, hearing her express those feelings about us living the life she had always wanted for Sam. We've talked about it before, I know, but this is the thing that makes me feel even more horrible; If Sam hadn't died, this wouldn't be the life I was living. I  _love_  this life, Santana." Her voice cracked on the last sentence, one that was thick with implications.

My hands twitched, and I felt like a small child with the urge to cover their ears and pretend that what's being said really wasn't. Instead, I wrung them together, and bit my lip, trying to figure out what to say. Still, after all this time, I found it extremely difficult to have hard conversations, especially one like this. But I was improving, and I had made a promise to myself months before to talk to Brittany about Sam when she was ready.

"What were your plans, had you broken up with Sam and he didn't...if it didn't end how it did?" I was actually surprised that I had never asked her that, but I guess maybe I was afraid to hear her answer.

"I don't know." Britt was staring at her lap. "More than anything, I wanted to come here, to fix things with you. But honestly, I don't know if it would have happened."

"Why?" Her words stung a little, and I had to remind myself that we were talking about a hypothetical scenario.

"How do you show up three years later, after everything that happened? I was pretty sure that me wanting to be with you wasn't enough."

"Okay." She was right, I wasn't even going to deny that.

As much as I would have liked to believe now that I would have taken Brittany back, I know that the person I was nine months earlier would have slammed the door in her face. Even  _when_  she was broken and guilt ridden, I yelled at her, threw her out of my apartment, scared the shit out of her. The only reason I'd even spoken to her in the first place was because of Berry, and as twisted as my friend was, even she wouldn't have forced me to see Britt under other circumstances.

"Okay." I repeated, tilting Brittany's chin up so her eyes met mine. If we were going to continue this conversation, I needed to be able to look into them. "What made you come here when you did though?"

"You know, that first night I was here, when you yelled at Rachel and Kurt and told them they thought it was okay to do things to you because you had nothing else to lose?" I nodded, not breaking eye contact. "That's how I felt, like there was nothing that could make me feel worse. I'd lost you, the love of my life, I'd watched one of my best friends die, I was stuck in Lima with nothing going for me. One day, I just woke up and had to go, so I got on a train and came here. I had no plan, I didn't even have an actual goal in mind. I just somehow ended up in Rachel and Finn's doorstep and I was a hysterical mess."

It was probably weird that Brittany and I had been married for more than three months, and had never had a conversation as to how we ended up back in each other's lives. I'd chalked it up to fate, and maybe I was right. I understood fully the implications of what Brittany was saying when she said that she loved her life though. She felt guilty for loving it, felt guilty for getting so much happiness out of something that indirectly resulted from Sam's death.

"I understand, Britt. This isn't about thinking it's your fault Sam died anymore, it's about the realization that you get to be happy afterwards."

"Babe, I don't want you to think-"

"I don't." I cut her off, moving a hand to her cheek. "I know that you love me and that you're not regretting that you ended up here with me, you're just regretting the circumstances of it. But God or fate, destiny, something, decided that the life you're living, that we're living, is what was meant to happen. Whether Sam died or not, something was going to bring us together."

"Do you really think that?"

"I  _know_  that. I think that you would have come here any way at some point, and had you pushed hard enough, I would have eventually let you in. Yes, the circumstances would have been different, and maybe we wouldn't even be together right now, but eventually, it would have happened."

I reached out to wrap my arms around her. As sure as my words were, my body felt shaky. It was unbelievable painful to think of not being with Brittany for any longer than I had. But I understood her guilt, and maybe I even felt some of it myself. After all, her coming to me was what saved  _my_  life. I was the one who got the girl, got the baby, got the life that maybe should have been Sam's. But I  _did_ believe what I said to her, eventually, our life would have been some variation of what it had become, albeit, probably a lot more complicated. Our draw to each other had always been impossible to deny. We could have been born on different planets, and somehow Britt and I would have been pulled together.

"It's okay to embrace the happiness. You know Sam wasn't my favorite guy-" I felt Brittany's small giggle against me. Okay,  _that_  was an understatement. "But he always just wanted you to be happy, and I appreciated that from him. He was a good guy, and that's what made it hurt me so badly when you chose him."

"I wasn't fair to him." There were tears beginning to well in her eyes. "The first time, during my second senior year, I chose him because I was lonely, I stayed with him because I wanted you to live your big dreams and not settle for Lima because of me. The second time, I chose him because I just wanted to feel someone's love. He was never my first choice, and he knew that, and look how it turned out for him. That still makes me feel like a really bad person."

"Hey, Britt." I moved the heel of my hand under her eyes, brushing away the tears that fell. "You're not a bad person, we all do things that aren't the greatest, but once they're done we can't change them."

She leaned into me and I hugged her tighter. This mature, adult conversation thing was really foreign to me. Sure, we discussed the future all the time, what was in store for Annie, buying a house somewhere, having more babies. Actually talking about the past though, that was a different story. I felt so emotionally vulnerable, especially talking about Sam, so I never brought it up, and Brittany knew it would upset me, so  _she_  didn't. Having an honest conversation was good though, it helped me see that this was something that might always haunt my wife, just as my past haunted me.

"I know that I'm not the best at talking, Britt, but we need to be better about making an effort. We've always been able to read each other so well, that I think we both forget that words are necessary sometimes ."

"Yeah. This has all been in my head for a while, I just didn't know how to get it out. But then after what Sam's mom said, I knew I needed to stop keeping it inside."

"I don't always make it easy, part of me might always be a little jealous of Sam. It's ridiculous, I know. But this is the thing, when Penny was here and I was watching her with the baby, I felt so grateful to him. This is so hard for me to put into words, and it might sound so weird to you, but I'm glad that Sam is a part of Annalise."

" _Really_?" Britt looked at me skeptically.

"Yeah, really. When she's older, if she starts doing goofy impressions or decides to start a one-woman cover band, we'll know where she got it from." I laughed. "I looked past his good traits for so long, because I was so angry and hurt, but if Annie turns out like him, I'll be completely okay with that. Plus, we kind of have Sam to thank for my career."

"Our poor daughter is going to be scarred for life if you start singing  _Trouty Mouth_ , Santana." Britt said in a mock-serious tone.

"I  _still_  think that's the best song I ever wrote."

We were quiet for several minutes, both reflecting on how much had just been said. It was more than the words, it was always more than the words with us. Everything was a work in progress,  _we_ were a work in progress. It was easy to idealize our relationship since Brittany came back, to think that we got everything right so quickly, but despite being married, having our perfect little girl, there were so many things that we would be working on for years to come.

"I've loved you since the first day I met you, I never stopped." I finally spoke. Maybe it was irrelevant to the conversation, but thinking about the past, I thought it was important. I wasn't sure if I'd never admitted that to her.

"I know you didn't stop, because I didn't either, and I think I would have felt it if you had. It just took us a really long time to get ourselves on the same page."

"Seriously. I mean, with the exception of the few months we were actually together in high school and obviously, the time you've been in New York, we've spent so much of our lives pushing each other away." I sighed, thinking how ridiculous it was that Brittany and I had spent so much more time apart than together.

"I'm glad we're stuck with each other now." She flashed her ring at me, and I kissed her fingertips.

"Me too Britt-Britt. And I'm glad that we're learning how to have hard conversations. We're pretty backwards, you know?"

"I do, but that's what makes us special, we never do anything quite like anyone else."


	43. Reflecting

The weather never warmed back up as September drew to a close. On the last day of the month, I was lying in bed pretending to be asleep. Through the crack in the door, I could hear the sound of Brittany's bare feet on the kitchen floor, obviously dancing. She had woken up extremely early, and snuck out of bed, taking Annie from the room with her. Although I was already awake, I knew she was up to something and didn't let on. As much as Brittany loved being surprised, she loved surprising other people, especially me, even more. So my eyes remained closed, and I tried to fight the curl of a smile as I listened to her move around on the other side of the door.

I used the time to reflect on the past year of my life, something I had done on my birthday since I was a small child. Mamí always laughed and said that I internalized all the things on that day that I should have said out loud all year. Twenty-five years old, and if someone told me what my life would look like, I would never have believed it. Last year, I felt exactly the same way, like I couldn't believe what my life had become. The difference was, this year I was happy about the disbelief, content with how everything had changed.

A year ago, I don't think I even sobered up for an hour on September 30th. I just kept drinking, hoping that if I didn't acknowledge it, the passing of another lonely, miserable year of my life wouldn't occur. I'd ignored Rachel's singing voicemails, Finn's requests that I join them for brunch, my parents' invitation to come home. Instead, I was drunk in bed thumbing through the copy of  _Conquering Your Quarterlife Crisis_  that one of the studio executives had tossed my way. All I could do was laugh bitterly at the reasons that other people my age were unhappy. I would have given  _anything_  to have those problems. But now, just three-hundred-sixty-five days later, my life had taken on a whole new meaning.

When the door opened, I couldn't fight the smile that had made its way to my lips. There was no dread in my mind about the twenty-sixth year of my life that was to come, and it was because of the two faces I knew that I'd see when I finally opened my eyes. The bed dipped as Brittany curled up beside me. I could hear Annie's soft breathing in my ear, but I didn't allow myself to open my eyes until Britt's lips touched my own.

" _Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday dear Santana. Happy birthday to you_." She sang, blue eyes sparkling. "Morning, beautiful."

"Morning. Why'd you leave me all alone in bed?" My smile was wide, as I kissed her nose.

"You'll have to get up and see." Britt kissed me again and laid Annie down on my chest. "Say 'happy birthday' to Mamí, baby girl."

We lay there for a little while, and I couldn't wipe the smile off my face. I thought back further than I normally did on my birthday, to senior year of high school. I just want to be famous, plain and simple. I actually laughed at my old self. Being famous was so low on my list of priorities now. A few years ago, I would have been insanely jealous of Broadway star Rachel, of Mercedes out in LA with her big record label, of Blaine and his modeling (which may or may not have been exclusively for bow ties and hair gel, I still wasn't totally sure) of Kurt with his Times job, of Boy Chang dancing on tour with Rihanna. But I wasn't, at all, and it was the weirdest feeling. Like there was nothing more I even wanted to be than lying here in bed with my two favorite girls.

"C'mon, Santana! It's time to get up!"

"Okay, okay. I'm getting up." Still holding Annie, I let Brittany pull me out of bed by my free hand. Before she even asked, I squeezed my eyes shut, knowing it was what she would want me to do. Britt was giggling as she led me into the kitchen and helped me sit down in a chair (see, we  _do_  sometimes use the kitchen table!). When I opened my eyes, there were dozens of balloons and a huge arrangement of flowers on the table. Susan Pierce was obsessed with the meaning of flowers, and Britt and I could probably recite half of them without a second thought.

Sterling roses and daisies, those were our flowers, the ones we sent back and forth to each other when I first left for Louisville, the ones we carried on our wedding day.  _Eternal love and loyalty_. I grinned, thinking about the adorable romantic things Brittany always did. The things that no one else would have ever expected, from either of us. We'd always been just Brittany and Santana, two halves of a whole, even when we were apart. They didn't realize that we actually put effort into the small things. When I looked again at the flowers, I noticed that she'd added lilacs to the mix, that was one I couldn't remember the meaning of.

"The lilacs are from Annie." Britt said, noticing my questioning gaze on them. "I didn't remember what they meant either, until my mom gave me them in the hospital. The love between a mother and child."

"They fit well, with our flowers." I smiled, my words not saying all I meant. Motherhood had made our love even deeper, something I didn't think possible.

I got up and set Annie in her basket on the floor before wrapping my arms around Brittany's neck and pulling her in for a kiss. She pressed me up against the kitchen counter and deepened the kiss. My hands found their way under her long sleep shirt, and I let out a small gasp when I realized she wasn't wearing anything underneath. I could feel her smirk against my lips before she moved them down to my neck.

"Wait!" She nearly shouted, as she pulled away and I dipped my head back against the counter, groaning at the loss of contact. "I made breakfast, and you need to eat it."

How could I complain about Brittany cooking breakfast? She  _never_  cooked, recipes confused her, so obviously this meant a lot to her. I lifted my head back up, ignoring the throbbing I felt between my legs, and moved to the chair at the table. After I sat down, Britt handed me a cup of coffee, which I quickly gulped down and then brought over the plates that had been warming in the oven. A huge smile lit up her face as she watched me realize what was there. Peanut butter and banana French toast, the special birthday breakfast that Mamí used to make me every year. Brittany really was something else.

"I can't even believe you remembered this Britt. _I_  forgot about it, and this was my favorite food ever."

"How could I forget? It was the only day of the year you woke up before anyone else. You loved this more than breadsticks from BreadStix, maybe even more than you love me." She teased, grazing my cheek with her fingers after she put the plates on the table.

"Well, it is a pretty close competition, but you just managed to squeak by." I grabbed her hand. "Britt, I love that you remember good things about my past. I've pushed a lot down to hide the bad memories, but there were so many good things too."

After we ate, Brittany went to put Annie down in the crib for her nap. We had actually been attempting to have her nap in her room, which we both had some trouble handling. When it came time for her to actually sleep through the night in her crib though, I kind of worried that we would both end up sleeping on the floor in there. Yeah, we might have been actually becoming those parents, if any one of our friends knew, I would never hear the end of it. Still though, both of us felt like we had so much lost time to make up for, and Dr. Kellen insisted there was no problem with keeping her close.

While Britt was on the phone with her mom, I let her know I was going to shower and slipped out of my pajamas. While I was washing my hair, the door opened and Brittany announced her presence. She was always really careful about not sneaking up on me, knowing that I had a tendency to panic and lose control. It was things like that that made me remember that despite how far I'd come, I still had a long way to go. I opened the shower curtain, grinning as she pulled her shirt over her head.

"Coming to join me?" I smirked.

"You know it."

I held out my hand for Britt and she quickly soaked her head to avoid the chill that comes before your body is covered in water. As usual, I stared at her, feeling my own body heat further as the water cascaded down her naked body. When I finally looked up at her face again, Britt was giving me her  _like what you see?_  eyes. I stepped towards her, aching to touch after earlier in the kitchen, and brushed my lips against hers before planting slow, adoring kisses down her body. Collarbone, each of her breasts, just above her belly button, and across the scar between her hips. On my knees, with the water running over both of us, I felt like I was worshipping her, this woman who taught me scars could be beautiful and then proved it with her own.

I looked up and Brittany's blue eyes were trained on me. They were darkened by desire, yes, but they were also brimming with unadulterated love as she watched my fingertips trace over the line that marked her abdomen. Her own fingers brushed my throat so gently, that I almost couldn't tell if it was water droplets. My breath caught, but I fought the tears back that sprung to my eyes. They weren't tears of sadness, just an overflow of emotion that needed to escape somehow. My fingers moved lower, and I heard Brittany gasp as I touched her. Our eyes stayed locked as they slipped inside of her, my whole being intent on expressing how much I loved her. How the fact that I was celebrating another birthday may have been entirely because of her.

* * *

Later that night, Brittany and I were dressed for dinner, and she sat in the glider in Annie's room as I stood in front of the changing table. The baby smiled up at me as I dressed her in a blue pinafore that reminded me of Alice in Wonderland. Britt loved her in that dress, and swore that with her blue eyes and blonde hair, all she needed was a white rabbit to fit the part.

"You're becoming such a New York baby,  _mi amor_. What would your grandparents in Ohio say to us dressing you up for dinner at The Standard? Although honestly, it could have been worse if Mama didn't make Aunt Rachel compromise. Who knows what kind of place she would have had us eating it." Annie's eyes were wide, and I liked to think she understood what I was joking about. "Baby girl, having you both here with me today has easily made this the best birthday ever. We could have stayed home and ate takeout and I would have been just as happy."

"I wouldn't have allowed it, San. You deserve a big celebration, this has been a big year for you. Do you want to open your gifts from us?"

"Britt-"

"Stop, we should really make a rule that neither of us can say that the other shouldn't have bought them a gift. It's getting ridiculous." She gave me a toothy smile before shuffling into our bedroom and coming back with two wrapped packages. "Here, this one is from Annalise."

I opened the card and smiled when I saw that the front was Brittany's handprint behind Annie's, with a sticker heart in the center. With an arrow drawn to the heart,  _Mamí's Heart_  was written in Britt's loopy handwriting. They held my heart, I told them both all the time, and I loved this. Inside, Britt had written  _Happy Birthday to the best Mamí in the world_. I kissed both of my girls, not even caring what was inside the box, this was gift enough.

"Open the box." Brittany bounced on her toes, hardly able to control the excitement.

I obliged, unwrapping the small package and removing the black velvet box from inside. Snapping open the lid, there was a thin chain with gold bars hanging down, it looked so like something I'd choose for myself. It was beautiful, but became even more so when Britt tilted the box so I was looking at the necklace from the bottom. Somehow, at that angle, the gold formed the letters  _AS_ , Annalise Samantha. And Brittany thought  _I_ was good at picking out jewelry.

"I love mine so much." Britt said, gesturing to the nest that rested against the hollow of her throat. "I wanted you to have something too."

"Thank you Britt." I choked out. " _Gracias Annalise. Me encanta_."

Britt fastened the necklace on me as I squeezed the baby tightly against me. When Brittany finished, Annie noticed the new addition and batted at it curiously. I caught the look on my wife's face as she watched and I smiled at her. Most people wouldn't even notice, or if they did, might feel a tinge of annoyance at their child tugging at their jewelry. For us, it was a sign that Annalise was aware of her surroundings, that she was progressing. I didn't even have to hear the shutter click to know that Brittany was taking a picture.

"This is from me." She finally said quietly, shifting Annie into her own arms and the larger box into mine.

As Brittany sat to nurse Annie one more time before we left the house, I rested my arm on the railing of the crib and tore the paper away. Inside was a plain red leather book, but when I opened it, I gasped. On the first page were pictures of Britt, me and some of Quinn that first summer at Cherrios camp. I flipped through and felt like I was watching a movie of my life with Brittany. School field trips, sitting on the Pierce's couch, me on Brittany' back with my legs around her waist laughing so uninhibitedly, laying on the grass of the football field, our pinkies linked together. And those were before we were a couple.

As I got further, there were shots of us on each others' laps in the choir room, singing together, at Sugar's Valentine's Day Party, Senior Prom, my graduation (where I must have missed the sadness in Brittany's eyes that was so obvious in the pictures) and throughout our last summer together.

The rest were in New York, at Rachel's Rent debut, her and Finn's engagement party. Dozens of us throughout Brittany's pregnancy, our hands almost always entwined over her belly. I smiled at the one I forgot Kurt had taken of the two of us wedding dress shopping, Britt kissing me on my lap after I'd given her the ring. The wedding, in the hospital after Annie was born, and then when we finally came home. I was amazed, and had no idea how she found all of these pictures, how she managed to capture our entire life together so perfectly.

"Good memories." She said softly and I pulled her close to me, kissing her with Annie between us.

"And we'll have so many more in the future." I mumbled against her lips, feeling more confident in that than I ever had. Brittany's kind of reflecting on the past was so much better than mine.


	44. Autumn In New York

Autumn in New York, probably one of the most cliche things out there, and yet I loved it. There was something about the early bite of cold, wearing sweaters, having more of a reason to drink coffee all day, and this year, more of a reason to cuddle on the couch. Not that Brittany and I  _needed_  more of a reason for that. Sometimes I felt like we actually needed a reminder to remove ourselves from the apartment on a regular basis.

On the first Sunday of October, I was washing the breakfast dishes when Brittany came into the kitchen with the baby. This strange sense of giddiness overtook me when I looked at the two of them; Annie dressed in ruffled overalls (which I'm  _sure_  came from Rachel, not Kurt) and a long sleeved orange onesie and her small puff of hair sticking straight up with an orange bow, Brittany in dark skinny jeans and a shirt that said  _I Believe in the Great Pumpkin_  with a picture of Linus VanPelt. I wasn't sure if I wanted to take a picture or just wrap my arms around them, they looked so adorable. Brittany gave me an approving smile when she noticed that even  _I_  had dressed for the occasion, a long black v-neck and leggings with an orange scarf wrapped around my neck.

"Are you excited?" I asked, already knowing the answer.

"Completely!" Britt laughed, pressing her lips against mine. "You know I love anything related to Halloween!"

"Britt, you love everything related to  _any_  holiday." I grinned. I had forgotten how much I loved her excitement over them.

I did a final once over on the contents of the baby bag before Britt slipped her hand in mine and pulled me towards the elevator. Finn's black Range Rover was parked at the curb, the car I always forgot he had since Rachel was constantly forcing us to be chauffeured around by Dmitri. He jumped out of the driver's seat and grinned proudly when he opened the back door to show off the new carseat that was buckled in the center. The poor guy wanted babies so bad, I really hoped Rachel would get her act together and marry him soon.

"Thanks Finn!" Brittany beamed, but I just smiled and he nodded knowingly to me.

"Of course. No use dragging yours around, and then if you ever-uh-want me to watch her or something..." He trailed off, giving Annie a quick kiss on the cheek. Who would have thought I'd ever find _anything_  about Finn Hudson sweet? But seriously, he loved our little girl so much that it kind of made my heart melt.

"Hey Blossom, what's with the dress?" I asked Rachel as I climbed into the car and took Annie from Britt to buckle her in.

"Hello Annie. How's my sweet little niece? I've missed you so much." She cooed, completely ignoring me.  _Nice_. "To answer your question Santana, I never know when I'm going to be photographed, you know that I always have to be ready for the occasion."

"At a pumpkin patch in God-knows-where Long Island? I doubt that."

"Hey, you never know San." Britt winked at me as she buckled her seatbelt and rested her hand on Annie's leg. "Although Rach, I'm kinda shocked you're not wearing tights. You'll probably be cold."

Biting my lip to keep from laughing, I looked at Britt out of the corner of my eye and saw the twinkle in hers. It always cracked me up that no one ever realized when she was teasing. It was like that for the whole hour and a half drive, teasing, laughing, faux-bickering. Even Annie was giggling, a new development for her that no one could get enough of. Pretty much everyone we'd ever met had been sent a video message last week when it started, and I wouldn't be surprised if it was the ringtone of one our more technically inclined friends. Our daughter was seriously  _that_  cute.

This fall pumpkin-slash-apple picking event was something Kurt and Rachel had started years ago, and something that I'd always managed to find an excuse to get out of. None of us were exactly the go get dirty and pick your own fruit type of people (well, except for maybe Finn, but even  _he_  just went along with it because of Rachel) although they seemed to find the nonsense fun. Rachel insisted that this was something that Annie needed to do (because  _every_  almost four month old child wants to hang out in a cold field, I'm sure) and Brittany was excited about it, so for the first time in five years, I joined in on their weird tradition.

"We're here!" Rachel announced, and I rolled my eyes. The gigantic scarecrow and the U-Pick sign  _definitely_  didn't give it away first, Rach.

"Babe, look, a corn maze." Brittany giggled and my cheeks heated, knowing full well what happened in a corn maze eight years ago in Ohio. "Maybe we should take Finn up on his offer to watch Annie and go  _explore_."

"Gross." Rachel huffed, clearly catching the meaning of Britt's words this time. "And people say that having a baby puts a damper on your sex life. You two still act like a couple of horny teenagers."

"Jealous Berry? Thinking about how you were getting your  _fake_ -sexy on for  _West Side Story_  while we were hooking up at the state fair?"

"Santana, I really don't understand why you think that the rest of us spend all of our time thinking about yours and Brittany's sex life. Honestly, I have a stage career and a fiancé, and plenty of other things on my mind."

Brittany smirked and gave me a look that said  _as if any of those things are as exciting, but I'm too nice to say it out loud_  and I let out a small laugh. She then unbuckled Annie and passed her to Finn, who looked more like an excited puppy than he usually did around Rachel. Although, I really wasn't one to talk. When I reached their side of the car, Britt put her arms around me from behind and I could feel her whole body smiling against me.

"Hey guys!" Blaine called from the other side of the parking lot. He and Kurt had already been out in East Hampton for the weekend, showing themselves off at some late-season event.

"Britt. Is he wearing a bow tie with freaking pumpkins on it?" I felt both her nod and the giggles that were rising in her stomach. "And Kurt is in a blazer with a black cat brooch. The three of us and Finn are officially the only people who dressed appropriately for glorified slave labor. I swear, they were more dressed up than they were when we went out for my birthday last week."

"Satan, I can hear you." Kurt announced as he approached.

"You were supposed to hear me. Did we miss the memo that said to overdress in the most ridiculous thing we had in our closet? You all look like-"

Brittany cut me off when she pinched the inside of my thigh, reminding me not to start verbally sparring with Lady Hummel. I rolled my eyes at the smirk he gave me, but softened a little when the two of them went over to fawn over Annie. I turned in Britt's arms and kissed her, taking that as my reward for playing nice. It used to bother me that they all knew how whipped I was, not so much anymore. It was totally worth it when it was only my two beautiful girls that had me so wrapped around their fingers.

After a heated discussion between the Winklevii twins and Berry over whether to start with pumpkins or apples (because  _apparently_  it made some kind of difference) the boy gays grabbed baskets, and we headed in the direction of the apple trees. I walked a few steps back with the camera, taking pictures as Annie was passed between her aunt and uncles, eyes wide at the antics that were going on among them. This was what it felt like to be normal, and my chest tightened thinking about it.

"How are you Finn?" I asked, taking the baby from his arms as Brittany attempted to climb onto Blaine's shoulders to reach higher branches on the tree.

"I'm okay." Finn glanced around, looking to see if Kurt and Rachel were still somewhere out of sight, probably frolicking through the apple trees. "Rachel and I are in kind of in an argument right now."

"Why?" I scrunched my forehead up. If Rachel told me they were arguing, it was usually over something ridiculous like Finn forgetting to take out the trash. If Finn told me, it was usually something more serious.

"She keeps wanting to push the wedding back further, so I told her to stop messing around and just make a decision about whether she actually wants to marry me or not. We've been doing this since we were seventeen, I feel like I'm getting too old to take a backseat to her quest for fame anymore. It's bullshit. Um, sorry." He glanced apologetically at Annie.

"It's fine, she's a baby, she doesn't understand. I just don't curse around her because Britt hates it. Listen, I'll only get sappy right now because it's you, and you're the only one of my idiot friends who doesn't make fun of me being whipped. Maybe because you are pretty much in the same position. But Rachel loves you, and she's borderline insane, you know that. I'm not really sure why she thinks that she has to push back the wedding just because she's nominated for  _another_  Tony, but odds are she has some twisted reason in her head. I'll talk to her if you want, figure out all the crazy."

"Really? Thanks Santana." I grinned at the dopey smile on his face. "She spends to much time talking to Kurt- and I love my brother, really, but he encourages her to make her entire life all about Broadway, I think. You're the non-flaky one, the one who calls everyone out on their shit, so I appreciate you helping me out."

"Anytime, Frankenman." He made a pushing gesture towards me, but didn't actually touch me- baby immunity! "And seriously, I know she wants to marry you Finn. Although I'm  _still_  terrified about the state of the world if you have babies as tall as you and as loud as her. Maybe I shouldn't be helping this become a reality. Britt and I may have to take Annie and go into hiding."

"Look, San!" Brittany shouted, cutting off any reaction Finn would have to that.

I gasped, nearly doubling over with laughter. She was  _standing_  on Blaine's shoulders, holding onto a tree branch for support. He looked like he was going to collapse in fear, and I wasn't even sure how Britt had managed to get up there. I was glad that Finn ran over, putting his hands on her waist so she wouldn't fall if Blaine had a sudden urge to adjust his bow tie. Watching that, then hearing Kurt and Rachel's shrieks of laughter when they came back into our row of trees made me realize how young we still were, how much time we still had to have fun. Fun was something I'd forgotten about for so long, and now here I was, actually enjoying a day that I always tried to avoid at all costs.

When the apple baskets were almost full, Finn carried Annie back inside one of them. The entire time, he smiled down at her, making faces so he could hear her laugh. Watching that, I knew I couldn't be my usual self and get so wrapped up in my world that I'd forget to talk to Rachel. Apparently I had become capable enough to be trusted with love advice, and I was sure that there'd be a wedding soon enough if I could just knock some sense into my diva friend. While I was lost in my own head, Britt came up beside me and wrapped her arms around me, kissing my cheek in the process. Yeah, Rachel needed to realize how much she really had to lose if she couldn't make time for both Finn and her career.

"Pumpkin time!" Rachel shouted, picking Annie up out of the basket and holding her close. "Ready, baby? Lets go find you your first Halloween pumpkin."

"Watch her Britt!" I called as Brittany scrambled to catch up with them. "Berry's hobbit hole might be somewhere in the pumpkin patch, we don't want to lose the baby!"

"You are the only person in the world who can be such a bitch, and so cute about your kid all at the same time." Kurt snickered, coming up beside me.

"Listen Hummel, I am  _not_  cute."

"You're also the only person who thinks being called cute is a bigger insult than being called a bitch." Blaine joined in on the teasing.

"Shut it Warbler, and maybe dust the footprints off of your shoulders, since my wife  _literally_  just walked all over you." I stalked off, catching up with Brittany and grabbing her hand.

* * *

After we'd found enough pumpkins to house a large colony of mice, had apple cider and donuts, and took about a thousand pictures, we packed everything up in the cars and started the traffic-filled trek back to the city. Britt was rubbing my back to keep me from getting carsick in the backseat, but she was oddly quiet. When I raised an eyebrow at her questioningly, she shook her head, letting me know we'd talk about it when we got home.

We got back to the city, and Finn helped carry some of the haul back up to our apartment before hugging us both goodbye and tickling the baby under her chin. I showered while Britt nursed the baby, and then she did as I put Annie to bed and called for Thai food. When the food came, we sat on the couch, takeout containers in hand and she tucked her head in the crook of my neck.

"What's going on, Britt-Britt?" I asked, slightly worried about her quick change in demeanor towards the end of the day.

"Rick left me a message today." She started, her voice not revealing emotion one way or the other about hearing from her boss.

"Okay. What did he say?"

"Kayla, the choreographer who was working on the winter showcase quit on Friday. He wants to know if I want the job."

Truth be told, I'd actually forgotten that at some point, Britt was going to have to go back to work, that we'd  _both_  have to go back to work. I tried to read her emotions, so I would know what kind of reaction she wanted me to have. This was an awesome opportunity for her, choreographing this major production, but since Annie's unexpected early arrival, Brittany hadn't even mentioned when she planned on ending her maternity leave.

"That's amazing that Rick knows you're good enough for the job." I chose my words extremely carefully. "What are you going to tell him?"

"I don't know." Britt knitted her eyebrows, her eyes cloudy with emotion. "It's a great opportunity, it's just, I don't know."

"Hey." I put my dinner in the coffee table, and took hers and did the same. Grabbing Brittany's hands, I looked into her eyes. "Talk to me, tell me what you don't know."

"I want to do it, San. I mean seriously, this kind of thing isn't going to come along every day. Maybe this sounds stupid-"

"Brittany."

"Sorry. I'm just afraid that I'm being a bad mother, wanting to go back to work when she's still so young and small and fragile."

Her voice broke, and I heard everything that she was leaving unsaid in that small break. Brittany's feelings in the hospital, that she had done something wrong, had failed to keep Annie safe, that she was doing it again. I moved my hand to her cheek and kissed her lips lightly.

"You're not. You're a great mom, Brittany, the best. This is such a great opportunity for you, and the baby is getting bigger and stronger every day. I'll still be here with her while you're at work. This was always the plan anyway, that you'd go back to the studio, that I'd continue working from home. If this is what you want, then I think you should do it. What kind of hours are we talking about?"

"Maybe twenty for now? Probably more as it gets closer..."

"Britt, that's like half of what you were doing when you were teaching."

"I know. And if this became a permanent thing, then my schedule would be way more flexible than if I were teaching classes."

"Sleep on it baby, talk to Rick, but you know that you have my support either way."

She didn't say anything else, she just leaned into me. I knew what Brittany would choose, and it was the right choice, if the roles were reversed, I'd make the same one. It was impossible for me to describe how proud I was that people were  _finally_  seeing all the awesomeness that was my wife. Britt had come to New York from freaking Lima, Ohio with nothing more than her talent, taught for a few months, had a baby, and they  _still_  knew she was good enough to choreograph for them. I pulled her in for a deep kiss, letting her feel everything I was feeling, making sure she knew how amazing she really was.


	45. Crazy In Their Own Way

Separation was never something I was very good at. It was one of the major reasons why I tried so hard to keep my distance from people, don't get close, don't deal with being apart. It was ridiculous, I know, I mean seriously, sometimes I even felt myself missing  _Berry_  if I didn't see her for awhile. That's how I knew it was bad. Of course, like with everything else, things with Brittany always felt amplified by about a thousand percent, and it was especially so after spending virtually no time away from each other for almost four months. Maybe it sounds needy, pathetic, or kind of crazy (not that I was winning any awards for my sanity  _anyway_ ) but her first day back at work was going to be borderline torture for me.

Britt was dressed in her dance clothes and lying on the bed with Annie when I appeared in the doorway, coffee cup in hand. One look and I knew what she wanted, probably  _needed_ , the same as me, some more cuddle time before leaving the apartment. Unattractively slurping the rest of my coffee in one mouthful, I put the mug down on the dresser and joined them, further rumpling the already made bed. Brittany buried her face in my chest and I ran my fingers through her ponytail.

"You okay Britt?"

"I am. Once I'm dancing, I'll remember why I'm leaving you guys. You're sure this is okay?"

"More than okay." It was the truth, as pathetic as I was being in my head, I was  _thrilled_  for Britt, and completely content with being the one to stay at home with Annie. "Besides, Annie and I are going to go smack some sense into Aunt Rachel today."

"Please don't actually smack her. She's smaller than you, you know. And knowing Rachel, if you so much as scratched her, we would probably be looking at a lawsuit." She thought on that for a minute before pursing her lips and continuing. "Anyway, I'm glad she finally called you back."

"Five days, seriously, why doesn't she ignore me for this long when I actually  _want_  her to? I actually had to play the  _Britt is going back to work and Annie needs you to hang out with me_  card via text yesterday. I used the  _baby_! Plus, I agreed to go to freaking Balthazar for breakfast, and everyone knows I  _hate_  that place."

"You do know you probably wouldn't have had to do either of those things if your first message to Rachel last week wasn't-" Brittany stopped and covered Annie's ears. "' _Bitch we need to talk before I go all Lima Heights on your ass_ ,' right?"

"Shhh. Just cuddle with me, I don't want to talk about Berry anymore right now." Of course, we both knew Britt was totally right, but she tried not to show it too much in her face.

We stayed there for probably ten minutes more than we should have, neither of us making much of an effort to get up. Finally, Britt made a move and I followed suit, laying Annie on a blanket on the floor so we could finish getting ready. While she packed the rest of her things in her dance bag, I downed another cup of coffee and moved my keys and wallet from my purse into the diaper bag. Brittany came over holding the baby in her tiny hoodie and the new Ergo carrier, which she finally was big enough to go in, out to me.

"You don't want to carry her there?" I asked.

"Oh, I do. But if I do, I'm won't want to give her back to you and I'm going to end up changing my mind about going back to work."

Wordlessly, I strapped the carrier to myself and Britt slid the baby inside. It was infinitely easier than using the wrap, and I didn't live in constant fear that Annie would suffocate being so tight against my chest. Okay, Sue Sylvester  _kind of_  screwed up my brain with two years worth of boob job jokes, I know. I smiled when Brittany handed me my favorite of her maternity sweatshirts, and I zipped it up, leaving just the baby's hooded head sticking out. Britt was watching me, her eyes a strange combination of apprehension and excitement.

"I look like a kangaroo." I told her, making her laugh.

"I know, I tell you that every time you zip her up like that. You're cute." I rolled my eyes, having long given up on fighting her when she called me cute.

Brittany wriggled into her own sweatshirt before pulling me towards the door of the apartment. It was just after eight, so everyone was out on the sidewalk rushing to work. I hated the chaos of it all, and Britt quickly wrapped her arm around me, squeezing my arm in the process. We walked the four avenues over in step with each other before making our way down the twelve blocks. The last two blocks, I dragged my feet, prolonging it, but we were outside the building quicker than I would have liked.

"Be good for Mamí. I love you baby." Britt whispered, kissing a sleeping Annie's nose before looking into my eyes. "Be nice to Rachel. I'll have my phone close by, call me if you need anything. I love you, and thank you."

"For what?"

"Just because you're you, and you always make me feel so awesome."

"Have fun today, but don't forget that you love dancing with me the most." I winked and kissed her in a way that was probably a little inappropriate for the middle of Sixth Avenue during the morning rush. "I love you."

She opened the door and went inside, turning to blow us a kiss before walking up the stairs. I sighed, blowing one back before dragging myself away from the door. At least I didn't start crying,  _that_ would have crossed a line into a whole new kind of crazy, like pink haired Quinn Fabray crazy. Hugging Annie close to me, I walked toward the restaurant, cutting across Washington Square Park and mentally making fun of the tourists who, for some reason, always got a kick out of taking pictures of squirrels. Of all things in New York,  _squirrels_.

I wasn't lying when I said I hated Balthazar, and it was probably for the exact same reasons that Rachel Berry  _loved_  it. It was one of those places that thought entirely too much of itself, and the people in there thought the same of  _them_ selves. It was constantly packed with people, even on weekday mornings. Not that I was really one to judge, but didn't these people have  _jobs_?

When I walked inside and gave the hostess Rachel's name, she told me (not so nicely) to sit on the bench and wait. I recognized her, and she recognized me, and there was definitely no love lost between us. It's  _possible_  that I'd once thrown a fit because she made me wait for my entire party before letting me sit and order a Bloody Mary. I, of course, then opened an airplane bottle of tequila and tried to drink it while I was waiting. The woman acted like she was a bouncer for some exclusive club, and I  _definitely_  told her so before Finn and Rachel came in and diffused the situation, then proceeded to yell at me for my behavior for forty-five minutes. It's only because of who Rachel is that I'm not banned from the place (not that I'd honestly be complaining if I was!)

"Santana!" Rachel called out, and bitchy hostess immediately became ten times more accommodating. Honestly, I thought she should have been considerably nicer to me, since I was sitting with my kid and  _not_  drinking "outside beverages." But whatever. I was a mess back then, a  _hot_  mess, but still, people don't forget that easily.

"Okay Berry, let's chat." I demanded after ordering brioche French Toast. That was the one redeeming quality of this shit hole, the French Toast (my obsession with all types of which may have bordered on Brittany's with chocolate chip pancakes). "Let's start with why you're avoiding me."

"I'm not-"

"Save it. It's a miraculous day when I don't hear from you more than twice, unless I've done something to piss you off, which I know I didn't, so what's your deal? You know I'll find out anyway, may as well save us both the time it takes to wear you down."

"Fine, I know Finn talked to you."

"Great, time saved, already moving on to the situation we need to discuss."

"I don't-" My glare cut her off. "Fine, although I'm still not really sure quite how the date of our wedding has become any of your concern, except for you needing to show up in your dress on the date we finally choose."

Our waitress (who was clearly friends with the bitchy hostess) set down Rachel's tea and my double espresso. Again, she asked if I needed a high chair for the small child strapped to my chest.  _Again_ , I told her that she was way too small for a high chair and I was perfectly fine holding her. Brittany would have been proud of me for how  _nice_  I was about it though.

"That's the thing Barbra, I don't get why you're not choosing one. You made me wear that awful pink dress for the wedding that didn't happen when you were eighteen, now seven years later you're acting like getting married is the furthest thing from your mind." Okay, maybe meddling in other people's lives wasn't  _exactly_  what Dr. Collins meant when he told me I needed to find my own interests, separate from my relationship with Brittany, but  _damn_  was I good at this.

"You know how important my career is, Santana. And Finn knows that too." Her voice was even more whiny than usual.

"If this was about your career, I might give you more of a pass. But the Mexican Third Eye is telling me different." I touched my forehead for effect, then adjusted Annie's hood that had fallen into her eyes. I'll admit, the second part made me look significantly less badass.

"It is."

"Cut the shit Rach, you and Finn are my family, and I'm trying to help. You can tell me what's going on."

She didn't answer me, so I just stared at her, waiting. After so many years of friendship, Rachel  _still_ didn't realize that she would never win a staring contest against me, so she tried yet again. The waitress brought our plates, and I didn't break eye contact while I forked the French toast into my mouth. Lucky for me, Annie stayed asleep. Had she woken up, I would have lost against Berry for the first time in my life.

"You're going to think it's stupid." She finally said.

"Don't say stupid around me." It was instinctive, given Brittany's past, to cringe whenever I heard the word, even if she wasn't present. Yeah, I'd curse in front of Annie, but I didn't want her hearing  _that_.

"Sorry. But you're going to make fun of me."

"Rachel. I make fun of you all the time. Even when I'm not around you, I make fun of you in my head, probably even in my sleep. Sitting here with you has literally given me ten more things to add to my ongoing list. Trust me, you've already given me enough material for the rest of my life. One more thing isn't going to hurt."

"That's supposed to make me want to tell you about this?"

"Yes, because I love you and your big giant fiancé okay? And he's kind of obsessed with my daughter and that man needs to have some kids of his own. He came to New York because it's where you wanted to be, he would go to the  _moon_ if that's where you wanted to be, he would probably do  _anything_  for you, so I think you owe it to him, and to yourself, to at least be honest about what the hell your deal is."

"I think our wedding is cursed." She finally admitted, so quiet that I could hardly hear her over the din of the annoying restaurant.

There was a first time for everything, and Rachel had literally struck me mute. I couldn't decide if she was that self absorbed that she thought the universe was really controlled by her wedding decisions, or if she had just gone completely crazy. Maybe there was mercury or something in those old stage curtains and her brain was deteriorating.

"Please elaborate." I finally said, for lack of other words.

"Well you know the first time we got almost got married, Quinn almost died."

"Not to trivialize it, but Quinn was in a wheelchair for about five minutes, and making sex eyes the whole time at tarantula head. I'm gonna go ahead and say she  _didn't_  almost die. And besides, it was probably the fact that you sent her eight-hundred text messages while she was driving, not that you cursed her, that caused the accident."

"Then explain why the second time Finn proposed, Brittany and Sam were in a car accident." She challenged.

"That accident was like three months before you got engaged. Britt and I were together, and she found out she was pregnant the day after your brunch." I rolled my eyes at the ridiculousness of it, but also felt the sting of the sadness thinking about that night brought me.

"No, we waited to announce it, Santana. Finn thought it was disrespectful to mention it right after, then you and I were hardly speaking and you were..."

"A mess, I know."

I looked at Rachel and actually felt bad for what I saw. Yes, I thought she was completely crazy for this theory she had, but  _she_  believed it and was actually not scheduling a wedding because something terrible might occur. Considering all the bad things that had happened to people she knew, it was impossible to correlate them with the damn Finchel wedding plans. I felt like I was talking to Phoebe Buffay on  _Friends_  when she thought someone would die because she went to the dentist.

"Rachel, this is the only time in your life that I'll say 'I love you' twice in a conversation. But you're being kind of nuts, and I'm saying it all out of love. Did anything to do with your wedding happen when Kurt's dad got cancer? When I...um... _that_  night?" I still couldn't find the words for that one. "When Britt and Annie almost died?"

"No." Rachel sighed, maybe realizing that I was right. Didn't she know by now that I was always right?

"Exactly. Bad shit happens, all the time. Listen, if you're having doubts about getting married, that's fine, we can talk about it. But if this is really because you think something bad is going to happen on your wedding day, you need to stop." When the hell did I become so rational? I guess I was learning how to be a grown up. "You hadn't talked to Sam or Britt in years at the time of their accident, Quinn was totally fine, so I'd say the odds of something bad happening to someone on your wedding day are pretty slim. And if it does, it would have happened anyway."

"You're right."

_Duh_. Rachel moved around her eggs, thinking. Annie woke up from her slumber, and I unbuckled her from her carrier and tickled her belly. She giggled and I looked down at her, knowing the love on my face was so evident.  _Tu tía es muy loco, pero la amamos de todos modos._  I whispered to the baby and her godmother looked at me, rolling her eyes.

"I took Spanish with Mr. Schu and even  _I_  understood half of what you said."

"Well, if the tiny shoe fits..." I didn't bother to tell her the second part, she didn't need to know that I'd said it  _three_  times. God, I really was being lovey-dovey.

"Here, just give me the baby. I already said you were right."

So I did, feeling very accomplished that I got to the bottom of the Rachel situation. She was singing to Annie (quietly, I might add, how very unlike herself) and I couldn't believe that I was actually thinking about how Rachel Berry would be a really good mom. I swear, seeing how people behaved with my daughter never failed to change my perception of them.

"You also need to tell Finn. He loves you in a big ridiculous way."

"I know. Thanks Santana for listening to me, and only making fun of me about seven-eighths as much as you normally would. I know it's crazy, but I need to get over it. I love him and I want him to be the James to my Barbra, sooner rather than later."

"I'm going to pretend you didn't just say that last part. But listen, everyone's crazy in their own way, okay?"

"You should know." She smiled. A jab back, wow, I was impressed.

"Touché Berry, touché."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tu tía es muy loco, pero la amamos de todos modos- Your aunt is very crazy, but we love her anyway.


	46. We've Come a Long Way

When my eyes popped open, I was momentarily confused as to why I was lying on my stomach on the floor. My vision came into focus and I saw sparkling blue eyes looking over at me, head level with mine. That's when I realized that I must have fallen asleep on the baby's quilt after Annie had drifted off while we were playing. Well, it was significantly better than all the other times I'd fallen asleep (or ended up) on the floor. My eyes flicked up slightly, checking that Annie was still sleeping on her back, before Brittany caught my lips with hers.

"This may have been the sweetest thing I've ever come home to." Britt murmured, not moving from her position beside me on the floor.

"Your wife napping while you've been at work all day?" I raised an eyebrow, and tried to smirk. She knew that I only slept in the middle of the day when my mind was trying to shut something out.

"Look at your left hand."

I did, and smiled to myself when I saw what Brittany was talking about. My hand was stretched out over my head, resting on the floor beside the baby. On top of it, was Annie's own hand, so small that I could hardly feel the weight of it. More and more often, things like that were happening, our daughter using touch the way we did, to feel safe and loved, to make  _us_  feel safe and loved. And it was definitely one of those days when we all needed it.

"What time is it?" I asked, still trying to un-cloud my mind from sleep and emotion.

"Quarter to four. If we leave in the next ten minutes, we'll have time to stop at Starbucks. You definitely look like you could use some coffee."

"Are you saying I don't look good?" I tried to joke, but my nerves made me sound far more offended than I'd meant to.

"Hey." Britt said seriously, sitting up and reaching out her hand to me so I could do the same. "You know you're beautiful. And you know that no matter what, it's going to be okay."

I melted into her, wishing that I would get to a point in my life where I could share in Brittany's optimism. It was just hard, it always seemed to be hard, even things that were supposed to be easy. Her touch against my skin calmed me enough, but also allowed fresh guilt to rise in my chest. Even more than I wished to be optimistic, I wished I could be strong like my wife, to be better at being leaned on when we were both going through something together. Everyone had always thought I was the tough one, Brittany's protector. Sure, I'd threatened people on her behalf all the time, but she'd never really needed it. Britt was the strong one, the one who could take care of herself, of me, and now of Annie with just her calming presence.

"I called my Papí." I told her. Cut and dry tasks like that I could handle, it was just the emotions behind them that I couldn't. Every month before Annie's appointment with Dr. Kellen, I went into freak out mode and called my father to talk me off a ledge.

"What did he say today?"

"I read him the list." I used to make mental lists of people I wanted to physically harm (okay, I won't lie, sometimes I still did, a leopard can't totally change her spots!) but now I made actual lists of every milestone Annie hit. "He agrees with our theory that she's just fine. But still..."

"We're still worried." It was a statement and a question in one.

"Yes."

This wasn't easy for either of us, this perpetual state of not having answers about our child's health. I'd always felt like watching Brittany sick was the most painful thing in the world. When she broke her collarbone jumping on the bed (yes, we were  _actually_  jumping on her bed when we were thirteen) I felt worse than when I'd broken my own arm as a kid. In all honesty, I'd missed more school being sympathy sick for her, than actually being sick myself. But now with Annie, there weren't even words to describe what was happening in my heart.

Mostly, we were able to pretend it didn't exist, that Annie was completely okay. She was grasping now, holding her head up, focusing on objects, those were all written down on my list. We were supposed to think of her in terms of gestational age, Dr. K had told us, and she seemed to be right developmental track of a two month old. But still, just bringing her to the office was enough to send chills directly to the marrow of my bones. More than that, it was enough to get me sending prayers to any deity that might listen and respond.  _Please, just let my daughter be okay, always_.

"Come out of that head of yours, San." Brittany said, kissing my forehead. "There's no point in making ourselves crazy before even hearing what the doctor has to say."

"I love you Britt, so much more than you even know."

"I'm pretty sure I do know."

With a minute to spare, we made it out of the house in time for coffee. Brittany still didn't drink it, and still had a ridiculous amount of energy. Me, I needed it to function. I'd be perfectly happy if someone hooked a permanent caffeine IV into my arm- and I hated doctors, so that was saying something. So, sated with a double espresso, I sat beside Brittany in the waiting room of Dr. Kellen's office, Annie snuggled against her Mama, sleepy eyes focused on me.

"Annalise Lopez-Pierce." The receptionist with a mousy brown pixie cut called out.

I nearly knocked over the chair jumping to stand up and I heard Brittany giggle as she pressed a kiss on the top of the baby's head. She put her hand on my arm, and I stopped for a moment, looking into her eyes. I wasn't the only one nervous, obviously, so I put aside my own nerves for an instant and sent her a look that told her she was right, that I was being ridiculous going into a full fledged panic every time we had to set foot in a doctor's office. You would think with my father being a doctor, I would be better at this. Instead, I was probably  _worse_.

"Brittany, Santana!" Dr. Kellen boomed, holding out his arms for the baby as we walked into the exam room. "And my favorite Lopez-Pierce, hello Annie."

Brittany and I stood on opposite sides of the exam table, our hands clasped together watching the doctor interact with the baby. He was the best, really, even my father agreed with that. His exams weren't cold and clinical, he interacted with Annie, seeing how she behaved under normal circumstances rather than poking and prodding her. And Annalise adored him, always smiling up at him, fascinated, probably by his deep voice. For the first time, she giggled for him and Dr. K responded with a hearty chuckle.

"Well ladies, with a sweet laugh like that, you're in for a world of trouble."

"Mostly Santana." Brittany grinned. "She can't resist the Pierce genes!"

"Britt!" I tried to scold her, but ended up laughing with them, thus proving her point. "I'm so screwed."

I chewed my lip as Britt undressed Annie and Dr. K started the exam. I felt slightly better because of the joking. People don't tend to joke if there is something terribly wrong, right? When Dr. Kellen moved the baby to the scale, I watched the numbers, nervous about them. It always made me think of the times I skipped meals, drank those weird smoothies, ate plain lettuce, all in an effort to lose weight. Despite both Britt and I being cheerleaders on high school, I was so dead set against the same path for our daughter. It was absurd, that at a healthy weight, I'd pushed myself to be _underweight_  and now I hoped the opposite for Annie. I didn't want her to have any part of that negative body image disaster. The scale read 10.2 pounds, another one added in a month, and my heart rate slowed a bit as Brittany squeezed my hand.

"Look at you, big girl." Brittany gushed, leaning down to kiss her naked belly. Dr. Kellen was used to all the affection between the three of us by now, and he smiled with me, watching Britt.

"Her heart and lungs sound excellent. How is she eating and sleeping?"

"Sleeping three hours at a time." I told him.

"And nursing well. I went back to work a week and a half ago, so she's taking five ounces of breast milk at a time in the bottle when I'm gone." Britt added.

"Great. This is exactly where we want her. Santana, lets see your list."

My cheeks warmed a little bit with embarrassment as I handed it over. He knew that I would always have one, that we were those kind of mothers, definitely. Brittany had an entire mental schedule of Annie's life going in her brain (plus, on the calendar in her iPhone) and I had the lists. The doctor smiled as he read it over, asking us questions, testing Annie's grasping, head control, focus.

"Her physical and cognitive development is right where it should be right now. Yes, she's low in her height and weight percentile, but you know that's to be expected. I know we've been on the wait and see track with Annie, and to some extent you'll always be doing that, but your little girl is as healthy as she can be right now. My only recommendation right now is to take her to a ophthalmologist, have her eyes checked by someone who does that exclusively."

While Dr. Kellen talked again about the possibility of retinopathy from Annie's underdeveloped eyes at birth, I felt like I could hardly listen. I was finally able to breathe normally in that office. An ophthalmologist, I almost laughed out loud. Of all the "ologists" we had discussed and feared, the three of us could handle the eye doctor. If there  _was_  a problem with her eyes, our research said (yes, we'd relaxed the ban on research, but only from reputable sources) that it was a fairly easy fix. This wasn't her heart, her lungs, her brain, any one of the dozens of other organs I thought about every day, and I felt giddy. Brittany wrapped her arms around the doctor, nearly jumping into his arms, before pulling me into her. I could feel her tears falling against my scalp as her chin rested against my head. Tears of relief, the same tears that I knew were coming out of my eyes.

"You're a fighter,  _mi amor_." I said, picking up the baby. "We always knew you were."

"We wouldn't have expected any less from you, Little Bean. You're surrounded by the toughest." Britt added.

* * *

The next night, as I finished putting on my makeup, Brittany came up beside me with Annie dressed in a  _new_  pair of cat pajamas. It had taken months, but she had finally grown out of the ones that she'd come home from the hospital in. Granted, they had been huge on her when we first dressed her in them, but still, it felt like another accomplishment. I picked up my lipstick, before realizing that there was no point in putting it on until we were out of the house and tossing it in my bag instead. Britt handed the baby to me and I kissed her all over.

We were going out alone for the first time since Annie was born. Last night, after getting our good news from Dr. Kellen, Brittany asked me the question we'd both been unprepared to ask, to have a Friday night date. I didn't even hesitate to say yes. Knowing that our daughter was healthy, and knowing we had someone we could trust with her meant we could actually spend a night out alone. Immediately, I called Finn, and he may have been as excited about watching her as we were about going out.

"Finn's here!" Britt chirped, darting to the door as the bell rang.

" _Mija_ , be good for Uncle Finn. As much as we love you and will miss you, Mama and I need some time together too. You'll understand when you're bigger." I smiled down at her. Annie pressed her palm against my cheek, and I took that to mean that she understood.

"Hey Santana!" Finn said excitedly as I walked into the living room. He was awkwardly holding out a huge bouquet of flowers.

"I told him I'm the one who was supposed to get you flowers." Britt frowned.

"And I told Brittany that these are a thank you for talking to Rachel for me. I don't know what you said, but I'm glad you managed to get her to talk."

"Well, I still stand by that she's kind of crazy, but I do appreciate that she's not crazy enough to make me sit through another Valentine's Day trainwreck wedding disaster. The weekend after is so much less cringeworthy. Anyway, as much as I'd love to stay and chat about this, my incredibly sexy wife is taking me out, so we've gotta go."

After about a hundred goodbye kisses for Annie, several rundowns of the emergency numbers (even though we would be seriously three blocks away) and then a few more kisses for the baby, we were out the door. Walking hand in hand alone felt strange, but a good kind of strange, like it was really a special occasion. Halfway to the restaurant, Britt stopped and kissed me hard on the mouth and I smiled, raising an eyebrow to question why.

"This is just actually the first time we've been alone together since I came to New York. Even when we didn't know it, Annie was with us." Britt pondered.

"I didn't even think of that." I leaned back in to kiss her again. "We've come a long way, Britt. I'm proud of us."

We finally made it to the restaurant, this tiny Mexican place on 2nd Avenue that no one really cared about, and yet the only place I'd found with food comparable to what I'd grown up with. Britt had already called to make sure we had the best table, tucked in the back, surrounded by windows and still surprisingly private. When we sat down beside one another, Brittany slipped her hand into mine and asked me to order for both of us in Spanish. I did, and we sat there in happy silence for a few minutes.

"I forgot what people talk about on dates." I finally admitted, laughing.

"So did I." She agreed. "That's okay, we can just talk about our regular life, it's honestly so much better than boring date small talk."

"Yeah, Brittany, I think you're right. I'm so glad we're here alone together, and I want to do it as often as possible, but just so you know, I love being married with a baby so much more than dating and drama and stress."

"Me too, just as long as we never give up our hot sex life."

"Oh, don't worry, that's never going to happen."


	47. More Better

It's entirely possible that I'd never seen Brittany as excited as she was in the days leading up to Halloween. She had insisted upon picking out our costumes and surprising Annie and I with them on the day of, which I was totally okay with. After a week of pestering her about the craziness that was the Village Halloween Parade, and begging her to take the day off of work to avoid it, Britt worked longer days earlier in the week to appease me. It was nice to spend the late morning curled up together on the couch while Annie napped, even if my wife was so thrilled that she could hardly stay still.

"Britt, relax!" I laughed, pulling her closer to me to stop her fidgeting. "I know you can't wait for Annie to wake up so we can get dressed, but I wanna get my cuddle on."

"Sorry, sorry!" She nuzzled my neck. "I'm just thinking about how hot you're going to look in your costume."

"Well, I wish I could say the same, but I have no idea what you're going to wear." I grinned against the top of her head.

"Oh, I'm going to look hot too, don't you worry."

"Trust me, your hotness is never something that worries me."

"That's good, because I thought I might have to remind you." Her fingers traced along the bare skin of my stomach where my shirt had risen up and she had a wicked smile on her face.

"Hmm. Maybe you better. You know, just in case."

It didn't take long (it never did) before most of our clothes were on the floor and Brittany and I were frantically kissing each other, touching each other, bodies full of desperate need. I'd probably never understand how it was possible that we always craved each other so intensely, and maybe I didn't want to. Maybe knowing would break the spell of it all, and I didn't want that. For over an hour, she reminded me just how hot she was, and I reminded her that I could never get enough of her body. Afterwards, we showered and I was finally able to cuddle with a  _calm_  Brittany for about ten minutes before the baby cried and she jumped up, back in excited Halloween mode.

"Annalise, I hope you get all your Mama's excitement." I whispered, picking her up while Brittany dragged things out of the closet. "Even though I'm not sure my heart will be able to take seeing both of you like this."

"Are you ready San?" Brittany asked, and I knew if anyone was watching me, they would have something to say about the overwhelming amount of love evident in my eyes. "Close your eyes."

Holding Annie close to me, I closed my eyes and listened to Brittany giggling as she started laying things out on the bed. When she was finally done, I opened my eyes and joined in on her laughing when I saw what she had picked out. She had  _actually_  done it! Three weeks ago she'd made it her personal mission to find costumes we could all wear together without one of us dressing as a man. Hey, I'd done it only once, and little me  _only_  wanted to be Uncle Jesse because she knew how hot Aunt Becky was, that totally wasn't my typical M.O. Glinda the Good, the Wicked Witch of the West and Dorothy, sheer genius!

"I got us the sexiest witch costumes I could find without being inappropriate." I swear, I could see Britt's molars with how wide she was smiling. "You'll be the hottest Wicked Witch there ever was."

"Hotter than Mila in the James Franco movie?" I smirked, knowing full well that Brittany had a huge crush on her.

"Totally hotter, and I actually thought about  _your_  thing for Michelle Williams when I picked these costumes. Bet you loved that movie."

"Oh, you know it. Both because of Michelle  _and_  because Rachel and Kurt  _hated it_. They said it ' _made a mockery of the great Judy Garland's legacy_ '"

"Of course they did." Britt laughed so hard she snorted, and then I started laughing again. "We don't have to tell them which witches we're going as then."

"Um, yeah, we totally do. You need to witness the freak out. I bet it's still just as bad six years later!"

Once we were dressed, we stood together in front of the mirror and I couldn't believe how perfect our costumes were. My black dress was short, tight and exactly like something I'd wear normally, Britt had even managed to find an appropriate neckline for me. The striped tights (no, Britt didn't borrow them from Berry, I checked) green makeup, pointed black hat and old dusty broom definitely transformed me. Brittany's glittery bubblegum pink dress was more like a tutu, and showed off nearly all of her perfect legs.

"So sexy." I affirmed at the sight of our reflection.

"Totally." She pinned her crown to her head and flicked me with her wand, silently directing me to pick up Annie from the bed while she applied more glitter to her cheeks.

The baby looked even better than the two of us in her white eyelet onesie and blue and white gingham pinafore. Somehow, Britt found a hat that looked like brown pigtail braids and a pair of the world's smallest ruby slippers. Most people dress their baby as a pumpkin or a ghost for their first Halloween, but not Brittany. She had seriously outdone herself with that outfit. Annie looked at me curiously, not completely realizing who I was until I started speaking, and then she giggled, probably confused about what all of this was about.

"They're here!" I heard Rachel shriek from inside her house once we'd made it to Brooklyn and found parking. "Finn, get the door!"

Not knowing what else seven adults and a baby could do on Halloween, Rachel insisted on having a "soirée" (I'd been begging her to stop using that word for years, but had finally given up). Judging by the insane amount of decorations on her doorstep, she was  _definitely_  taking it to a whole new level of theatricality. Brittany was unable to control her laughter as Finn undid the lock, and once he did, I was stunned at how thoroughly my wife had planned this all.

"They did  _not_  get you to dress as the Cowardly Lion!" I teased him and he laughed sheepishly.

"Just wait until you see Rachel and Blaine, Santana. Quinn hasn't stopped laughing since she got here ten minutes ago, but no one will appreciate it like you will."

"They really wore the costumes? Oh, I'm so excited!" Brittany bounced up and down, then grabbed my hand. "Let's go!"

"Am I the only one who didn't know about this?" I faked offense.

"No! You're just the only one who didn't know about your costume. Everyone else just totally listened to my assignments. It's amazing what they'll all do for Annie." Britt winked at me. Yeah, we  _totally_ used our baby, whatever, it was hilarious to see them all do the bidding of an infant.

Sitting on the couch in the living room were Kurt dressed as the Tin Man and Quinn dressed as the Scarecrow.  _How appropriate, Fabray_ , I thought, before Britt shook her head at me. Damn, I hated that she always knew my mean thoughts before they were totally out of my brain! When Blaine and Rachel finally entered the room, I was glad I wasn't holding Annie. I completely doubled over, actually understanding what  _side splitting laughter_  meant for the first time. Nine years worth of jokes, and Brittany made my greatest dream come true- they were dressed as freaking  _munchkins_! It was too much for me to take.

"Okay, this is officially the third best day of my life!" I shouted. Yes, this was amazing, but it  _did_  have to come behind the day I married Britt and the day Annie was born. "I need pictures, now! I want to blow them up and wallpaper our apartment with them. I want to send out Christmas cards with you two on them!"

"Santana! I've never seen you so excited!" Blaine chuckled.

"I've been saying things about you two being in the Lollipop Guild forever!" I grabbed Brittany and pulled her to me, kissing her all over her face. "I love you so much for this!"

"She's not even making fun of us." Rachel said to no one in particular, her voice full of wonder.

"I think she's in shock." Quinn hypothesized.

"Shut up, all of you. I'm actually just being appreciative of the fact that we're all dressed up as the cast of the freaking  _Wizard of Oz_  just to sit around and eat take out, and you all did it for our daughter who won't even remember it. I just love you guys, okay?"

Somewhere in the chorus of  _'aww'_  and  _'she does have a heart,_ ' I started to get really emotional and needed a minute away from all of it. Every time we were all together lately, I found myself really appreciating my friends. It was scary to think that Snix had finally been tamed, but at the same time, I knew that I would never be able to go around acting like a hateful bitch in front of Annie as she got older anyway. I felt Brittany's fingers playing at the small of my back, and she gave me a half smile, her eyes telling me all I needed to know.

"Okay, enough with all this." I announced. "I'm calling Peppino's for delivery. Someone start a list of what you all want. Dinner is on us tonight, that's for sure!"

After I called in the food order, we all sat around laughing, taking funny pictures, even getting a performance of  _The Munchkinland Song_  from Rachel and Blaine. Annie was in Quinn's arms, watching all of it in amazement. The poor child would probably never know how normal people behaved, considering everyone in her life, including her own mothers, are completely over the top. I'd  _blame_  the Glee Club, but honestly, I owed them a thank you for bringing me together with people who made me happier than I could have conceived.

The doorbell rang, and I grabbed my wallet and made a move to answer it. It's terrifying how in one instant, with the ring of a doorbell, my entire night went in a completely different direction. It wasn't the delivery guy at the door, and my entire system went into overdrive with one glance. Before I could do anything else, I was running up the stairs, heart pounding, somehow ending up face down on the bed in the guest room.

"No. No. No." I sobbed into the pillow, trying to hang on to my fragile sense of control. "Please, no."

The blood was rushing in my ears, and I couldn't hear anything over my own fear. All I could see behind my closed eyes was a bloody knife, and I swore the wounds on my body had been reopened. Frantically, I clawed at my chest, trying to make sense of the fact that there was no blood there anymore. I didn't hear the door open, I didn't hear anything, I just felt dead weight land on my back, long fingers finding their way to hold my wrists away from my throat. Even with all my strength, I couldn't push the weight off of me.

"Shhh. Santana, it's me. It's Brittany. I've got you. I'm here." She spoke in short phrases, her voice soothing.

"I can't. He's going to..." I gasped through my sobs.

"You need to breathe for me. There's no one here. It was a kid in a costume. You're safe, I promise you."

_A kid in a costume_. My mind still couldn't make sense of it. All I could see was the knife he was holding, bloody. It was always blood that did this to me. I tried to calm myself, tried to feel Brittany's heartbeat against my back, but I still felt so out of control. She let go of my wrists and was massaging my scalp, but she didn't move off of me. I needed the weight of her against me, something about it held me in reality. It could have been minutes or hours, I wasn't sure, but at some point, my vision cleared and the rushing in my ears stopped.

"Brittany..." I trailed off, my voice more raspy than normal from the crying.

"I've still got you." Her lips were pressed right behind my ear, and I shivered. "Do you want to sit up?"

I nodded against the pillow, and Brittany slid off of me, wrapping an arm around my shoulders to help me sit up. Shifting her own body, she pulled me into her lap, making sure there was very little space between the two of us. With our hearts pressed together, I let myself breathe in time with her.

"I'm supposed to be happy." I said, my voice barely a whisper. "I'm not supposed to feel this anymore."

"Santana." I felt her fingers tracing my scars, and I felt a burn in their wake. "Just because you feel it, just because things like this happen to you, it doesn't mean you're not happy the rest of the time. It was a setback, but it's not the end."

"I'm so fucking scared right now."

"I know. I know you are." Her lips replaced her fingers against my neck. It was like kissing a child's scraped knee to make it feel better. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry that I didn't think Halloween through."

"No, Brittany, it's not your fault. Why won't this pain just go away?"

"I want to say something. You need to hear me say this, because you won't." She took both of her hands and cupped my cheeks, looking deep into my eyes, into my soul, really. "Someone tried to kill you. I know it hurts you inside to say it, to think it, to hear it, but it's the reality. Because of that, you can be afraid of anything you want, for as long as you want. But you're healing. Baby, you're healing so much and it is going to get easier. Look, this is the first time this has happened since you started slipping the night Annie was born. Four and a half months is a long time, so much longer in between than it used to be. The pain won't be forever either."

I cried hard against her chest, gripping at the top of her dress with my fists clenched. In my head, I knew she was right. But at the same time, I was still terrified. I'd been ignoring what had happened to me while in my sessions with Dr. Collins. It was easier to talk about how scared I had been about Annie, the pain I felt over my abuela, anything but talking about that night. The avoidance had to stop, I wasn't going to get better until I put words to it, until I accepted the fact that I was a  _survivor_ , that this couldn't always be something that defined me. I was getting better, but I needed to be  _more_ better.

"I'm going to try to start talking about it. To Dr. Collins." I told Brittany, wiping the tears off of my face.

"Good. I'm proud of you for doing that. I don't know how it feels for you, and if I could take away all your hurt I would, in a second, but I think this is the right step."

"I think so too."

"I'm here with you, you know. Every step I'll take with you."

"I know Britt, and I appreciate it so much. But the hardest part is the thing I have to do all by myself, say those words out loud."

"You can do it though, don't forget how strong you are."

After sitting there in comforting silence for a while longer, there was a knock at the door, Rachel, I assumed, and I nodded for Brittany to call for her to come in. When the door opened, she was standing there with a very fussy baby in her arms. I held out my arms for her, wanting to feel her weight, to see her beautiful face, before I handed her to Brittany. As Britt took her from me and started to nurse, I kept my head on her shoulder and one hand holding onto Annie's foot. Rachel turned to leave, clearly feeling like she was intruding upon an intimate moment, but I stopped her.

"Rach. Thank you, for everything tonight. I'm sorry this didn't go the way it was supposed to."

"You know I told you a long time ago that you don't have to be sorry for things you can't control. Are you okay?"

"I'm going to  _be_  okay. Eventually. Listen, is it okay if we stay here tonight? I can't...I don't want to deal with getting home."

"You're all welcome here any time you want or need, you know that. I'll get you some clothes, and have Finn pull out the pack and play for Annie. Do you need anything else?"

"Can you just tell everyone else..."

"I'll take care of it, just get some rest. Call for one of us if you need anything."

Rachel closed the door, and I buried my face in Brittany's neck, inhaling her scent. I knew that I'd cry probably cry again, that she would hold me close to her and make me believe that I'd be okay. In the morning, as a new month started, I'd figure the rest out, but for the night, I just needed the feeling of security I could only find in Brittany's arms.


	48. Relive Your Darkest Moments

For the entire weekend after Halloween, we didn't speak about what had happened. I just needed a few more days, more time to exist in the world as I knew it. Something about it all was vaguely reminiscent of high school, but on a greatly magnified scale. Brittany knew innately how to handle me, more so even than she had back then. I could feel it in her touches, firm, rough almost, but gentle at the same time. She was comforting me, but she wasn't letting me go numb, reminding me that I had to keep feeling even if it hurt.

When Monday came, my mind and heart were racing. It was one of those crossroads in my life, for better or for worse, nothing would be the same after I made myself deal with what had happened to me. In the almost four years since it happened, I'd come up with dozens of ways to refer to  _the incident_ , even in my head;  _it, that night, before/after, when I was in the hospital, when I almost died_ , and so many more that didn't even remotely do justice what had actually occurred in that alleyway. It was like speaking the words made it more real than the scars that marked my body.

I was insistent upon Brittany going to work. She was hesitant, but promised to meet me at Dr. Collins' office before the appointment. Rachel came and hung out with Annie so I could go for a run, try to clear my head and prepare myself. It was cold and rainy as I jogged along the river, but I wore just a tank top and shorts, blasting Florence and the Machines through my headphones and trying to sort through all of my emotions.

**_Regrets collect like old friends_ **

**_Here to relive your darkest moments_ **

**_I can see no way, I can see no way_ **

**_And all of the ghouls come out to play_ **

I was grateful that my heart was pounding from the intensity of my workout, that meant that it wouldn't ache as much as I let that darkened door in my mind open up. Through just a tiny crack, memories started to spill forth and I kept my eyes focused on the East River, counting the buildings across on the Queens side. I needed to be able to remember without spiraling out of control.

_I could count the number of steps from my job to the subway (It's funny, I used to not refer to that by it's name either. I thought being a stripper was the worst thing in the world, if only I knew then what I know now). Five hundred and twenty six. I'd actually counted so I could tell Rachel that nothing would happen to me on a five hundred foot walk. Boy, was I wrong. I was probably four hundred steps in, oh so close, when he grabbed me._

**_And I've been a fool and I've been blind_ **

**_I can never leave the past behind_ **

**_I can see no way, I can see no way_ **

**_I'm always dragging that horse around_ **

_I hadn't even been paying attention to anything around me when it happened. All of my energy was focused on getting to Brittany, starting over again. It's one of those stupid things you do when you're still young in the city. I don't know anyone who hasn't, we've all gotten too drunk and gone home on the train alone, not looked and walked out into oncoming traffic, played with our phones, wore headphones or just been so involved in our own heads walking late at night. Ninety-nine percent of the time, there are no consequences. I was just one of the unlucky ones._

_People say your life flashes before your eyes when you're about to die. It's true. Every regret, every accomplishment, everything I was still wishing to experience went through my mind in ten seconds. Ten seconds was how long it took me to process that this guy, someone I would have completely intimidated had we gone to high school together, had pulled out a knife. If I'd had more time, I'd have probably thrown up, or screamed, tried harder to fight back. But I hadn't even finished processing the horrible things he'd said to me, let alone the knife in his hand before the blade met the skin of my throat._

**_Shake it out, shake it out, shake it out, shake it out_ **

**_And it's hard to dance with the devil on your back_ **

**_So shake him off_ **

I had to stop jogging and drop my head down between my knees, pulling my headphones out in the process. There were other joggers who slowed to see if I was okay, probably thinking I was having a heart attack, but I waved them away. I was okay, I just needed to breathe. This was the first time I'd let myself remember those feelings in months, and it was hard. Instead of jogging further, I walked home, feeling shaky, but not as terrified as I had felt on Halloween night.

* * *

"How are you doing?" Brittany asked softly, hand on my back as the two of us sat in the waiting room of Dr. Collins' office. Rachel, eager to help, was still back at our apartment with the baby.

"They're just words. Why are the words so hard, Brittany? Why can I never make myself say things?" My head was in my hands, and I was trying to steady my breathing.

"Santana." She leaned down closer to me. "You know why they're hard, we've talked about it so many times before. Something in your head has always told you that things don't really exist until they're said out loud. That's why they're hard for you, because then you have to really believe it."

"That doesn't come from my head. It's years of conditioning to think that way. Remember, it's only recently that my family has started talking about things."

Britt ran her fingers up and down my spine and tucked my head beneath her chin, silently easing some of my heartache. Yes, my parents  _were_  getting better, but they had been raised the same way. Don't talk about it and it will all go away. Of course, my mind went to my  _abuela_  and  _her_  beliefs on keeping things inside, but I quickly tamped it down.  _That_  was definitely not the issue I needed to tackle at the moment, been there, done that for entirely too long.

"Britt, I'm scared of what I'm going to be like after."

"I know." There was nothing else she could say. She was just as scared of what would come next as I was, but she had pushed her own fears aside for my sake.

When Dr. Collins came out for me, I didn't want to let go of Brittany's hand. She pulled our joined hands to her lips and kissed my knuckles, urging me to let go. We'd discussed it in depth late into the night on Halloween, and I'd decided that I needed to be by myself when I first spoke out loud. We would talk about it together later, but seeing her face the first time, knowing how much it broke her heart, would make my own break further, would make the words stay stuck inside.

"I love you, so much." She told me, pressing her lips just over my heart and letting them linger there to feel the rhythm. "I'll be right out here the whole time."

"Thank you." I said softly.

Before letting go, I kissed Brittany, pulling all of her emotional strength into myself. Slowly pulling away, our noses brushed and our eyes met. In that moment, I had something to hold on to, no matter what changed, one thing would always stay the same, the deep, indescribable love that the two of us shared. I stood, fingers slowly detaching from Britt's, and she took that hand and placed it to her heart, our signal that even apart, she wasn't letting go.

I sat down in one of the armchairs in the office (Dr. Collins had several seats, and I still wasn't entirely convinced that he wasn't using my seating selection to analyze me) and let my eyes search the room. I needed something I could look at and focus on, but it was basically designed so I had no choice but to look at the doctor.  _I can do this. I can do this. I can do this._

"I..." I could feel the tears burning behind my eyes, trying to block the words from coming. "Something happened on Halloween."

"Okay. Do you want to talk about it?"

"Not at all. But I  _need_  to talk about it. I need to talk about  _all_  of it." My eyes raked Dr. C's face as if I expected him to be brimming with excitement over this, maybe thinking he could turn my mess of a head into some kind of award winning theorem. But he wasn't like that, I knew the man well enough. His kind eyes remained exactly the same and he nodded, urging me to continue.

"I don't know how to start."

"You do. Take your time, take deep breaths."

"Okay."  _I can do this. Start slow._  "I was in the newspaper you know. On TV, on the Internet, I'm sure. God, I think about all the times I sat in my room in freaking Lima completely convinced that I'd be famous, that my name would be in lights. But this...it wasn't even my name, just  _twenty-one year old woman_ , or in some,  _twenty-one year old stripper_. I never saw any of it, but I heard them all talking. Talking only when they thought I was asleep. No one has ever been allowed to say anything about it to me."

"Can you tell me why?"

My eyes were blinking furiously, trying to stop the tears but they were still falling. I looked over to the door, thinking that maybe I was wrong, that maybe it would be easier if Brittany was in the room with me. It was hard, almost everything came with less of a struggle for me when my wife was there, but I shook the thought away. I'd made the decision for a reason, this time, it wouldn't be easier with her. It was the eyes, they'd give her pain away and I'd crumble.

"Because it hurts too much."

"What hurts?"

"Everything." My arms were crossed over my chest, nails digging into the skin on my sides. "When I push it down, I can breathe, I feel like I can be happy. As soon as something makes it break the surface the pain I feel is so blinding that I don't even know how I'm still alive."

"And talking about it brings the pain out?"

"I-I don't...I've never talked about it before. I've talked about what it felt like after, you heard that when I first started coming here. But  _that night_ , I just want it to go away, I don't want to talk about it, I don't want to hear about it. I want it to never have happened."

"Santana." Dr. Collins' voice was soft. "It never  _should_  have happened, I have a doctorate from Stanford and even I don't have the words to describe how horrific what you went through is. But it  _did_ happen, and it's not going to go away. You have to make your peace with that."

I felt so angry again, angry at  _him_  for doing this to me, angry at myself for having really convinced myself that it could ever be gone. But the anger steeled my resolved. Maybe it would never be gone, but it could be better, right? I needed to do whatever it took to be the most okay that I could possibly be. For myself, for my wife, for my daughter.

"How can I ever make peace with the fact that he...?" I was so close, but I couldn't finish. "I can't."

"You can. It's in the past, the words can't hurt you."

"He..." My sobs were loud and I felt broken.  _Feel the anger Santana, you can say anything when you're so angry_. "That fucking psycho slit my throat. Multiple times. It's like a fucking horror movie. I was left to die in a disgusting, piss smelling alley."

My face was in my hands and my thumbs ran along the scars on my chest and throat. I said it. Four years later and I said it. All the air felt like it was gone from my lungs, and then suddenly, they filled back up again. I felt freezing cold and hot all at once. My body legitimately didn't know what to do with itself, and my brain was buzzing. I didn't know if it felt good or absolutely terrible to have finally said those words. All I knew was that I couldn't say any more right now, I just wanted to go home.

"Can you...?" I couldn't finish my sentence, I just turned to the door. Nodding, Dr. Collins got up and I could hear him whispering to Brittany. I didn't even care what he was saying.

Her arms engulfed me and I wasn't even crying, just trembling against her. Brittany and Dr. Collins were exchanging words  _tomorrow_ ,  _sleep_  and  _steps_  were the only words I made out over the sound of Britt's heart against my ear. She threaded her arm under my armpits, steadying me so I could walk with her support. The only feeling I could make out was that of being drained. I didn't feel anger, or even sadness, just that everything had left my body.

Somehow, we made it home and Finn had replaced Rachel in watching the baby when she went to work. Brittany brought me to the bedroom, pulling off my shoes and helping me change into pajamas before I laid down on the bed. I felt like a fucking invalid, but I didn't even protest. She was at my side, pressed almost entirely against me and drawing hearts over chest and stomach with her fingers. I brought my hand to her face, and then met her lips with the softest kiss. That let me feel something besides emptiness, and I knew I hadn't been completely destroyed.

"I love you so much." I whispered.

"So much." She echoed. "Stay here. I'm going to send Finn home, get Annie ready for bed and then we'll talk if you want to."

"I can help you." But even as I said it, I knew I'd be pretty useless.

"I know you can, but I'm okay." God, she never made me feel like I wasn't good enough.

Before she got out of bed, Britt kissed me several more times all over the top half of my body. When she was gone, I thought about what had happened in Dr. Collins' office. I'd accepted it. That was it, there was no turning back. And the crazy thing was, everything around me didn't implode. I was hurting like hell, but I was alive. I closed my eyes, listening to the sound of the bathtub running, Brittany soothing the baby, the cars on the street outside. Bringing my fingers to my wrist, I felt for my own pulse. Yup, the world was still going on and my heart was still beating.

"Do you want to say goodnight?" Britt asked, holding Annie in her arms.

"I do. Thank you, Britt." I took the baby and kissed her gently, whispering in her ear. " _Te amo, mija. Duerme bien_."

After putting Annie down for bed, Britt lowered the lights and crawled back to my side. She played with my hair as I watched her intently. I wanted to talk, I was just waiting to find my words again.

"I'm so proud of you." She started.

"It was so hard, harder then I even imagined it would be. And right now I feel kind of broken again. I hate feeling like this."

"I know you do." She kissed over my heart like she had earlier in the day. "But I was thinking, sometimes you have to break things again to fix them. It's like that time we broke my mom's super expensive vase and glued it back together, remember? We did a pretty good job, but it was still obviously not right. Then my dad had to pry the whole thing apart again so he could glue it back together properly. You're like that vase Santana."

"Wow Britt." I was always amazed by how she could make the most complicated things so simple.

"Today, you had to get broken again, but tomorrow you can go back and start all the fixing."

"I hope so. I really hope I'm not shattered for good."

"You're not, trust me, I'd feel it in my heart."

I knew that I was tired, but I didn't realize I would really asleep mid-conversation. Brittany's fingers rubbing my scalp lulled me, and I fell into a sleep full of dreams. The vase, a Phoenix rising from the ashes, beauty out of destruction. I would rise up too, all in good time. There was no other way.


	49. The Ones Who Love Me

For the remainder of the week, I sat in Dr. Collins' office every day and actually talked for two hours. It was like saying those words had opened a floodgate, and I couldn't get my thoughts out fast enough. The past eight months had been filled with milestones in my recovery, but none were as major as the latest. Yes, I left each day emotionally drained and needed so much extra love from Brittany, but the feeling of being stuck, a feeling I didn't even know I was having, had started to subside. I was miles from where I needed to be, but I was actually recognizing that each step was moving me closer to that point.

It was late Friday and Brittany and I were once again in the waiting room, with my head resting on her shoulder. She looked exhausted after the week that felt never ending. On top of sitting in the doctor's office, taking care of me and taking care of Annie, Brittany had also put in long hours at work, trying to be completely prepared for the showcase that was coming up quickly. She never wavered though, and she never complained. It was incredible for me to see what an amazing woman the girl I fell in love with so long ago had become.

"Hey Britt." I lifted my head off her shoulder and motioned for her to lay hers on mine. "Can I be honest with you about something?"

"Always."

"Okay." I took a deep breath, knowing this was hard for me to say. "When you came back to me, you promised me that you'd never leave me again. I told you I'd try to let you back into my life, but I honestly never believed that you'd be able to handle the disaster that I'd become."

"Santana." There were tears in Brittany's eyes, and I kind of needed to get to the point so she knew I wasn't going to get up and leave her.

"What I'm saying Brittany, is that I couldn't have been more wrong. I was scared of how much I  _needed_  you, scared that I couldn't do any of this alone. But that's the thing, you take care of me and you love me like no one else ever can, but you also make me realize how much more capable of things I am than I believed myself. Dr. Collins and I have been talking about my emotions after what happened, and it made me think about how angry I was with you then, and how that couldn't be further from what I've felt for you every day since you came back to me." I concentrated intently on my breathing, trying to make sense of what was happening in Brittany's eyes. "What I'm trying to say is that I tell you I love you every single day, but I don't tell you nearly enough how much I  _appreciate_ you."

I exhaled sharply, feeling shaky. That type of long winded declaration was definitely not something I was good at. But I'd realized that even though Brittany and I has gotten married, that I'd signed my name on Annie's birth certificate and love that child as much as if I'd given birth to her myself, actions that obviously proven that certain old wounds had, in fact, healed, I hadn't said the words. My anger towards her for leaving was so far mended that I couldn't even see the scars. I knew that in the very fiber of my being, but I wanted to make sure than she knew it too.

"Thank you. Thank you for telling me that. I think a part of me was afraid that some day you would remember that you hated me then, that you never really forgave me for leaving."

"Britt, we suck at talking. Like really, really badly. I know that I'm mostly to blame for that and we said we would be better after Sam's parents came, but we obviously both still have a lot inside us that we need to discuss."

"I know. How do we even get better at this?"

"Dr. Collins thinks that we should start having sessions together again. I think I agree with him. You know last week how you told me that just because things are hard sometimes, it doesn't mean I can't be happy the rest of the time?" She nodded and I continued. "I think our relationship is sort of similar. You make me so incredibly happy, and I want it to stay that way forever. We stopped coming here together because things were good, but until we get better at this talking thing..."

"You don't have to explain, I agree with you." She lifted her head and kissed my lips. "I don't want anything to ever make either of us to feel like this marriage isn't working, or to have some kind of issue that we don't talk about. It's a great idea."

"Will you...um...I'd really like if you would come in with me today. I think maybe a good starting point is for you to hear what happened to me, in my words, all of it."

Brittany didn't hesitate to agree, and I let my cheek rest on the top of her head. It was a difficult step for me, because I knew how much it would hurt her, as much as it would hurt me, had the roles been reversed. But I needed to do it, I couldn't keep her in the dark about what I was going through. When Dr. Collins called me in, Brittany kept her fingers interlaced with mine and walked two steps behind me into the room. We sat down together on the couch and my grip tightened on her hand. I needed her as close to me as possible for what I had to say. It wasn't going to be easy on either of us.

"Santana, I'm glad you took into consideration what we spoke about yesterday." Dr. Collins gave me a warm smile. "Brittany, do you have any concerns before we start? I know we've all done this before, but it want to make sure you're both comfortable."

"No, not at all." Brittany said softly, squeezing my hand.

"Okay, excellent. Where would you like to begin today?" He directed his question at me.

"I just...I'm ready to tell Brittany about what happened to me."

It took almost fifteen minutes and me coming extremely close the hyperventilating before I was able to start. Brittany never broke eye contact with me as I told her everything: The fear like nothing I ever felt before as soon as I heard the first footsteps coming up too close behind me. How much it crushed me to think about how he wanted to teach me a lesson for being who I'd worked so hard to accept. How every second of pretending that I was tough enough to defend myself had all been a lie. What it felt like to know that I was going to die and that there was nothing in the world I could do to stop it. The excruciating pain of skin and muscle being sliced and the metallic taste of blood that I don't think will ever fully leave my mouth.

The hardest part of the entire thing was watching Brittany's realization when I told her that he had witnessed me kissing someone in the back room at work. So badly, I'd wanted to skip that part of the story, to keep Brittany in the dark about it being her and I, but I knew it wasn't possible, wasn't right. I didn't have to say it, she knew that she was there with me that day, and she squeezed her eyes closed, taking a minute to regain her composure before moving closer to me.

When I couldn't talk anymore, Brittany made a move to wrap her arms around me, and I threw mine back around her. We comforted each other, tears mingling together as we cried. This wasn't breaking anymore, this was pieces being out back together, me telling Brittany what my nightmares looked like. Dr. Collins cleared his throat after several minutes, and we separated slightly. I looked into her eyes, but I didn't see pity, which I always feared, I just saw concern and confusion.

"San, God." Brittany moved her hand to my cheek, struggling to keep herself together. "I didn't know."

"I know. No one else knows, and I wish you didn't have to. But I promised myself I'd tell you everything."

"I'm so-"

"Britt, don't say it, you have nothing to be sorry for. I didn't tell you this to make you feel guilty, I swear. The guy is a fucking sick bastard, nothing could have changed that. I'm lucky, you know? I'm alive and now I'm actually living again. My mother always says  _'por todas las razones que hay una temporada,'_  and I'm starting to think that maybe she's right. Everything happens for a reason, and for some reason this awful thing was supposed to happen to me."

Brittany didn't respond right away, and I looked to Dr. Collins for help. It was her time to process, my time to be the one with all the strength. I pulled her close to me again, letting her feel that I was really okay.

"Brittany." Dr. Collins commanded our attention. "Would you like to say what you're feeling?"

"I'm not sure what I'm feeling." Her voice was near a whisper. "'I'm glad you don't feel like I'm responsible, but I feel like someone just stepped on my heart, knowing that I was involved with this somehow."

"I could never feel that way. It took a lot of digging this week to make sense of a lot of what happened that night, and I still have a lot more to do. But when I put those pieces together, all I felt was an overwhelming sense of gratitude that you weren't still there, that it wasn't you instead of me. I had Finn to come find me, but  _I_  was the only one who knew you were in the city. Things could have ended so much more tragically, but they didn't. It put a lot in perspective for me."

"Okay."

I could tell she didn't even know what she was supposed to say. She was going to need time to come to terms with all of it, that was part of the reason I'd waited to let her in. I felt stronger now then I had earlier in the week, and I didn't need to cling to her when she obviously would need a little bit of space. There were only a few more words exchanged- I'd said more this week than I had in years, so I was finished for the time being, and Britt couldn't formulate much when she was trying to think- so we bid Dr. Collins a good weekend and went outside to get a cab.

* * *

When we got home, Brittany took Annie from Finn and brought her into the bedroom. I poured myself a glass of water and stood at the kitchen counter, letting them be alone for a little while. Finn looked at me quizzically, but I just poured another glass and handed it to him, gesturing for him to sit down. There was a lot I wanted to say to him too (apparently, four years of not speaking gave me some severe verbal diarrhea) but I needed a few minutes of silence, and Finn was never one to pry.

"Santana." Brittany called from inside the bedroom, and I nearly tripped over myself getting there. "Are you okay if I go out for a walk? I'm sorry, I just need some time to think. I don't want you to-"

"Hey." I pressed my forehead against hers and kissed her gently. "I get it, you don't have to explain. I know it's a lot, take your time. I'm okay, and I love you."

"I love you too. The baby just ate. She's asleep, but you know this 6:00 nap she takes doesn't last all that long."

"I know. Call me if you need me to come get you, okay?"

"Okay."

I resisted the overwhelming urge to ask her to stay as I watched Brittany give a small wave and a thank you to Finn before walking out the door. Anger flared up again inside of me, anger at that sicko for not only hurting me, but hurting the people I loved. But I knew I wasn't wrong in disclosing everything to Britt, and I knew it would be wrong to take away the time she needed to handle it by asking her to stay in the apartment with me. After taking a quick peek at Annie, I turned on my heels and walked back over to Finn in the kitchen.

"Is everything okay? Do you, um, want me to go?" He mumbled. Where I got nasty if I had to handle heavy shit, Finn got extremely awkward.

"It'll be alright, I think. This is just a lot to handle, you know? She's so good, Brittany, and I kind of dumped a bunch of stuff on her today and she needs some time."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"Not about Britt, not right now anyway. I  _do_  want to talk about me thought, and about you, I guess. I just want to start by saying thank you, you know? I'm not sure if I ever said it to you, but I do feel it."

"I know."

We sat there silently again, my heart feeling the heaviness that weighed down before I had to ask something I didn't want to ask. I watched Finn's motions as he shook the ice cubes in the glass, watched the condensation trickle down the sides, half-hoping that Annie would wake up so I could forget I ever had this idea. Hadn't I said enough for one day?

"What did it feel like for you?" I finally blurted.

"What did...oh, finding you?" He averted his eyes from mine, and I really hoped that he would answer my question. "It was the worst moment of my life. I think it would have been even if you had been a complete stranger, but it was  _you_. You were a part of this strange sort of family we have going on, and you and I have a really, really shitty history."

" _That_  is an understatement."

"I thought you were  _dead_ , Santana. I didn't even know what to do, you see these movies that say not to move the body, so I sat on the ground next to you and waited for the ambulance. I ripped my t-shirt off and thought maybe I could stop all the bleeding, but I had to give up. I just sat there holding your hand, it was ice cold, and even though I had no idea how, I prayed as hard as I could." His eyes were closed, I knew he was trying to keep himself from crying. "I called your parents, called everyone else and then someone gave me some new clothes and a shot of Ativan. I was in this tiny hospital shower for an hour, trying to wash the blood off of myself and trying to forget what you looked like there."

"God, Finn." My heart clenched looking at him. In all the time that had passed since that night, I'd never once given thought to how horrific it must have been for  _him_. "How did you get over that?"

"A year of therapy." There was a faint hint of a smile on his face. "You don't think Rachel would have let me get away without going, do you? I struggled a lot with my own mortality, at least that's what the doctor told me. But I guess you don't see someone the way I saw you without having thoughts of your own death."

Again, there was silence and I got up to refill our water glasses. God, it all sucked for so many people. I'd been so wrapped up in my own struggle that I really hadn't seen, or hadn't cared enough to see, just how much it effected everyone close to me. The closest I'd ever gotten to even remotely understanding was in the conversation I had with my mother on the day she found out that Brittany was pregnant. Maybe letting other people in, and understanding their part in it would actually help me with my own peace.

"I heard you, you know, in the hospital after the police made me talk to them and I wasn't capable of saying much that helped them. But they told you what I said, what he said to me."

"They did. Hearing that was almost as hard as seeing you, after what happened with you, with Kurt in high school. I cried to Rachel for hours, then apologized to Kurt for another hour. I even apologized to Blaine, even though I'd never directly done anything to him. I was a stupid, stupid kid and realizing that people like me grow up to be people like him crushed me."

"I hated you, even though I said I was over it. Brittany tried to convince me you weren't a bad person, but I wasn't having it. I was so fucked up in my own head back then, trying to make sense of all of my feelings, that I legitimately fantasized about bad things happening to you, Finn. But when I heard you in my hospital room, when you thought I was sleeping, I stopped hating you. You were the only one that I didn't hate for a really long time."

"I'm glad you don't hate me. And thanks for talking about this to me."

"No, thank you Finn." I said it again. "For saving my life, for constantly showing me what an amazing friend you are. I'm really grateful that you're in my life."

"Well I'm grateful you're in my life too, especially considering everything."

He didn't hang out much longer, just enough to see Annie once more after she woke up from her half hour cat nap. Before he left, Finn engulfed me in one of the biggest hugs I'd ever had, and I hugged him back hard. When he was gone, I sat with the baby, just staring at her. She was this blank slate, who had struggled though a lot but was still safely tucked away from the evils of the world. The more I was able to heal, the longer I could shield her from seeing the ugly side of things.

I didn't know when Britt would be home, and considered sending her a text message. Fighting the urge, I undressed Annie and filled her bathtub, listening to her gurgle happily as I gave her a bath. I took a bottle of breastmilk from the refrigerator and let it warm on the counter as I dressed the baby for bed. Once she was dressed and fed, I brought her into the nursery and pulled  _Madeline_  down from the bookshelf. She looked up at me with those wide blue eyes, and I stopped reading several times just to kiss her.

"I love you so much, baby girl. I want you to know only beauty and happiness in the world for as long as you possibly can." I whispered as her eyes were closing. "No matter what, remember that nothing matters more than keeping the ones you love close to you. Sweet dreams,  _corazoncita,_  Mama will come kiss you in your sleep when she gets home."

As I stood to carry the baby into our room for bed, I stopped when I saw Brittany in the doorway, sweaty and red eyed. Silently, I held Annie out for her to kiss, and she did, letting two big tears fall on her cheeks. Quickly, I got the baby into her basket and turned back around to open my arms for Brittany. She fell into them, and her sobs tore my insides to shreds.

"I'm sorry I needed to go. I was trying so hard to keep it together Santana, but I  _can't_  right now. To think that I was a part of something that meant I almost lost you for good hurt me so much more than anything else I've ever felt. I tried to dance it out, tried to run it out like you can sometimes, but all I wanted to do was come home and stand exactly like this."

"Brittany, you've been so strong for me through everything. And I feel like I hit you with a truck today, throwing that information at you."

"No." She cried softly against my neck. "I needed to know, in order for you to get better, you've gotta get it all out. I just needed a little bit of time to process it."

"This shit is like an episode of  _Lost_ , isn't it? You think it's over, and then something you never realized comes to light."

"Did you really just compare this to the most ridiculous television show of all time?" She let out a small giggle. "Eventually it's all going to be out though, I know that, that's what I thought about on my run home."

"I know. And it's okay if you break too Britt, what happened that night effects both of us, effects our whole lives. I don't want you to feel like you can have emotions about it just because you're trying to be strong for me. I'm learning to be stronger, and today, I learned a lot about just how much this impacted the people I love."

There had been so many words exchanged over the course of a few hours, that neither of us needed to say anything else. Instead, we went back to our tried and true method of communication, touch. After eating crappy freezer waffles, we ran a bath and savored every inch of each other's bodies. We were alive, we were together, and we were healing, even if some cracks would take longer to close than others.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> por todas las razones que hay una temporada- for every reason there is a season


	50. Little Talks

By the time the third week of November began, Brittany and I were both desperate to get out of New York, desperate to run back to Lima and spend a normal holiday with our families. With everything going on in both of our heads, it would be the perfect escape, and the perfect way to find comfort. Despite the fact that New York was so thoroughly our home, there would always be a draw back to Lima, a sense of warmth and heart that is impossible to find anywhere else. That's what we needed for ourselves, and exactly what we wanted for Annalise on her first Thanksgiving.

For me, it would be the first time I'd been home for the holiday since the year of my attack. Two weeks after I'd been discharged from the hospital, my dad had all but carried me out of my Bushwick apartment and threw me into the backseat of the car. I'd screamed in Spanish at him for two hours to turn the car around until I'd finally fallen asleep, then spent the entire weekend drunk. I had refused to leave the house, refused to come downstairs for dinner, and refused to speak to either of my parents. Needless to say, my presence hadn't been required at the holidays since. But this year was different, this year was all about making up for lost time.

At nine in the morning on the day before Thanksgiving, I had the car loaded, Annie strapped in the backseat and an  _extremely_  exhausted wife still attempting to make her way out of the apartment. I'd sent Quinn a text to tell her we were running a few minutes late (yes, we'd actually invited Quinn to drive with us, since her husband wasn't flying out until just before dinner on Thursday) and sat in the driver's seat gulping down my coffee while I waited for Britt. I felt bad that we were leaving so early, that Brittany couldn't sleep in after the insane hours she'd put in at work over the two days prior and the emotional turmoil she'd been going through. But when she walked out the door and flashed me her huge smile, I grinned back, knowing that she was okay without sleep as long as we could get ourselves back to Ohio as soon as possible.

"Ready to go?" I asked, smiling at Brittany as she buckled her seatbelt.

"I don't think I've ever been this glad to go home." She sighed. "Is it weird that I'm a twenty-five year old wife and mother and feel like all I want in the world right now is to see my mommy?"

"Not at all Britt. Even  _I'm_  admitting that I can't wait to see my mom, and that's pretty rare for me. It's been a really rough month, and what we need is to just relax and let them take care of us."

"And you're really okay with staying with my parents for the whole weekend?"

"Of course, it's ridiculous to drag all of the baby's stuff back and forth, and your mom is the one doing Thanksgiving dinner. It's not like my parents don't live five minutes from yours."

Britt was quiet and contemplative as we drove out of the city. I was having an extremely hard time handling seeing her like that, seeing her struggle to accept what I'd told her in Dr. Collins' office a week and a half earlier. We had spent a lot of time talking about it, both in the two sessions we'd had together since and at home. Brittany was trying to stop the guilt from creeping up, trying to believe me when I told her that she was in no way responsible, but I knew it was hard. We were both in a situation where it was possible that there might never be complete closure and somehow, there had to be acceptance despite that.

"I'm glad Quinn is coming with us." Britt said quietly as we pulled into the ridiculously pretentious neighborhood that she lived in.

"So am I, but if you tell her that, I'll never forgive you. I'm happy you had dinner with her on Friday."

"Me too. It was good to just talk about nothing with her, and laugh, you know?"

"I do, I think you really needed it."

Quinn got in the car, and for once in my life I didn't have anything mean to say to her. I appreciated what a good friend she was to Brittany, and even what a good friend she was to me when I actually let her be. The two of them fell into an easy rhythm of conversation while I stayed mostly quiet, focusing on the road and my occasional glances back at Annie. Every once in a while, I added an opinion to what they were discussing or a laugh at something funny, but it wasn't until halfway through Pennsylvania, when Britt had fallen into a deep sleep, that Quinn and I actually talked.

"You really surprised me, Santana." Quinn said. Normally, I'd expect to hear malice in her voice with words like that, but there wasn't, it was just a plain truth.

"How so?" I asked cautiously, trying to keep any hint of defensiveness from sneaking in.

"Because Brittany has always been telling everyone how they misjudge you, and I've made it pretty clear that I didn't believe her about that. But ever since Annie was born, I actually  _get_  it. I don't know the details of what happened to you a few weeks ago, but I'm proud of you for doing what you need to do to take care of yourself and your family."

"Um. Thanks Quinn, I guess. I don't know, we don't really talk to each other like this so I'm not sure what I'm supposed to say."

"Nothing, I just wanted you to know."

"I appreciate it. And just so you know, I really do appreciate that you're always there for Brittany."

"I'm here for both of you. I know you and I don't always get along, and we definitely have our fair share of bad blood, but I do love you."

"Yeah, well I guess I love you too."

We went back to our silence again, and as hard as it was to admit, it actually felt good to hear Quinn say those things. I think it was similar to how Brittany felt when Finn and Rachel were so accepting of her coming back into my life. On the inside of our relationship, it was so obvious why we were together, why we'd married so quickly and why we hardly ever wanted to spend time apart. On the outside, it was hard to see, hard to make sense of. Even though Quinn and I reconciled before the wedding, I knew she still had some trust issues with me when it came to Britt. But this was her finally completely approving of me, and with everything else going on, I was glad to have that from my wife's best friend.

By the time we finally dropped Quinn off at her mom's, it was close to eight. I'd forgotten how much longer driving home took around the holidays than any other time of year. While we got settled at the Pierce's, Susan and Stephen fawned over Annie while Lizzie excitedly described every detail of her new life in California. As Brittany and I ate the lasagna that had been saved for us, we happily took all of it in. She squeezed my hand under the table, silently telling me that this was exactly what she needed.

It wasn't a late night, after putting Annie to bed in Brittany's room, the two of us came downstairs and saw that Lizzie was just as exhausted from traveling as we were. After another hour or so of talking, and about a thousand Pierce hugs, we went upstairs to get ready for bed. I was the first to lay down, and Brittany dropped herself beside me, laying her head on my chest.

"You're exhausted, Britt." I whispered, hoping that she'd get a good night of sleep. "Please try to sleep in tomorrow. I'll get up with Annie in the morning."

"It's okay, I'm not that-" A yawn cut off her words and I kissed her nose.

"Want to try that again?"

"You're right. I am. And I feel like everything is catching up to me. I'm ready for the showcase to come already. So much for working twenty hours a week."

"I know, you did  _thirty_  in two days. Granted, it was so we could have the rest of the week, but I don't want you wearing yourself down."

Brittany didn't hear that, she had fallen asleep mid-conversation and I lay there staring at her, loving this woman so much that it was painful. It was good to watch her with Lizzie and her parents, I'd actually seen the stress melt from her face. Susan had caught my eye at one point, seeing my relief in watching Brittany laugh. I wasn't sure how much my mother-in-law knew, but knowing my wife, it was probably a lot. I wondered if Susan was upset with me, worried that she thought I was wrong for causing her daughter guilt. Sleep seemed far off, so I lay there, obsessing like I so often did at night.

* * *

At 5:30 in the morning, I woke to the sound of Annie's cries. Brittany made a move to get out of bed, but I pushed her back down, kissing her back to sleep. Carefully, I slipped out of bed and picked the baby up from her basket before making my way down the stairs. When I walked into the kitchen, I was surprised to see Susan already awake and standing over the stove.

"Morning Santana." She chirped like it was the middle of the afternoon. Every single one of the Pierces were morning people, even Annie. "Happy Thanksgiving!"

"Thanks Mama P, you too. Why are you up so early?"

"I had to get the turkey in the oven. But I can take a break to feed my granddaughter if you want. I know her Mamí doesn't function well without coffee."

I laughed and handed Annie over to Susan. She was right, I definitely needed a lot of coffee after the latest in a series of many sleepless nights. I poured myself a cup while Susan readied the baby's bottle, and I sat across from them, watching contently. Annie was wearing white pajamas with a big turkey on the butt (I  _swear_ , the baby laughed harder when she saw them than Britt and I did, it was pretty priceless) and Susan was in a turkey sweater and apron. She smiled down at the baby who looked so much like her, and then looked up at me.

"How are you doing, Santana?"

"I'm okay." I couldn't wait until I was at a point in my life where that question was rhetorical again. For now, it was one of actual concern, everyone wanted to know if I was about to go off the deep end. "It's been a hard month, I'm sure Britt has told you."

"She has. She's taking it all pretty hard."

"I know, I'm really sorry. Seeing what it's done to her makes me regret telling her. She's been through a lot too, I feel like I just made things worse. She's  _Brittany_ , seeing her cry is like watching a puppy get run over. I hate that I did that to her."

"Santana Marie." Susan narrowed her eyes at me. She hadn't middle-named me since Britt and I had told her about us senior year, and I was  _convinced_  that her and Stephen weren't going to be okay with us dating. "First of all, you didn't do anything to her. Second, do you remember the time you burst in the front door of this house screaming at me and my husband?"

I did remember that, and felt my cheeks heat up, embarrassed by my hotheadedness. After the Santa fiasco junior year, I was  _furious_  at Brittany's parents. What would have happened if she'd  _told_ people outside of the Glee Club that she still believed in Santa? I knew that it was horrifying to break her heart, to tell her that something magical wasn't real, but it also wasn't right that her parents were treating her like a child, giving all the assholes at school another reason to make fun of her. So I skipped Cherrios practice and came into the house,  _demanding_  that they suck it up and rectify the situation. It's totally possible that I also threatened to go all Lima Heights on them, that's how mad I was.

"Yeah. Sorry about that." I mumbled.

"No, honey you were right. Maybe you should have skipped all the Spanish profanities, but your point was valid. One of the many things I love about you is that you've always understood how my daughter sees the world, but you've never used that as an excuse to treat her any differently. I know you hate to see Brittany cry, we all do, but you were right to tell her. She's your wife, and marriage is an equal partnership. You start hiding things because you don't like seeing her sad, and the next thing you know, you'll be hiding a lot more than that."

"She's been so strong for me, Susan. I don't want this to be the thing that breaks her."

"It won't be. I've talked to Britt quite a bit since you've told her what happened, and you need to trust her when she says that she's working through it. The two of you love each other so much that you spend more time worrying about each others' emotions than your own. She's worried about how you're dealing, you're worried about how she's dealing and all it does is amplify the stress."

I sat there for a moment, sipping my coffee and considering it. It was hard, Susan knew that we'd always felt each other's pain and it was my natural response to worry about Britt before I worried about myself. But if she was concerned just as much about me, then this could eventually spiral into some sort of  _I'm worried about her worrying about me being worried about her_  type of never ending ridiculousness. Just the thought of that made my head hurt, thus proving my mother-in-law's point.

"Morning." Brittany said, walking into the kitchen and breaking me from my thoughts. Ignoring the other chairs at the table, she dropped down onto my lap and I wrapped my arms around her waist. "Did you get donuts, mom?"

"Brittany!" Susan laughed. "It's 6:17 in the morning, when do you think I went to the bakery?"

"I don't know, they're always just here when I wake up on Thanksgiving."

I'd forgotten about the donuts, one of the dozens of Pierce holiday traditions. Brittany, who was so untraditional about so many things was  _insistent_  that everything remained the same each holiday. I pulled her closer to me, so glad I was back for all of it again. I was sure there would be four kinds of dinner rolls, butter pecan ice cream for the pumpkin pie, Stephen wearing an apron to wash the dishes, one Christmas carol to kick off the holiday season before bed, and so many other things that I couldn't quite remember. Maybe this was why I had  _hated_  the holidays without Brittany so much, nothing compared to her family's traditions.

"Why don't we take a ride and pick them up, Britt?" I asked.

"Yeah, we could do that. Mom, do you want to keep Annie with you?"

"Absolutely." She kissed both of the baby's cheeks. "I'll teach you how to cook sweet baby girl. I'm sure even with  _two_  women in your house, you'll probably eat takeout every night."

"Not every night." I smirked. "I cook sometimes."

"Hopeless, you girls are seriously hopeless."

Brittany and I quickly made ourselves presentable enough to go out in Lima, where we would probably see a dozen people that had known us our whole lives, even before seven in the morning. Before we got in the car, I pressed Brittany up against the passenger door and kissed her like it had been years since our last. She tangled her hands in my hair and reciprocated, leaving me breathless.

"What was that for?" She asked.

"Just because I want to enjoy every second I can with you, and I can't even explain how much this Thanksgiving means to me."

"It means just as much to me, Santana. The holidays were never the same without you, we'd spent them together for so long. Let's just be happy this weekend, forget everything else even exists."

"I'm with you on that, a hundred percent."


	51. Thankful

When we arrived back at the house, my mother's car was already in the driveway. Since their conversation in the hospital, Brittany and my mom were closer than they ever were, and she launched herself out of the car to get inside to see her. It made me happier than I could imagine, watching my wife as excited to see my mom as I always was to see hers. Considering the history there, that was a major feat and I quickly locked the car doors and followed her inside.

"Mamí!" I cried out, throwing my arms around her.

"Santanita, this is the nicest you've ever greeted me in your life." The smile in her voice was evident, and an instant later, I felt Brittany's arms around both of us.

"I missed you." I said softly, hugging her tighter. "I'm glad you're here so early."

"Oh, we have plans for you girls." Susan grinned as Brittany pulled her into the hug. "No pretending to watch the parade while making out on the couch this year. You're grown women now, and it's about time you learn to make a proper Thanksgiving dinner."

"But Mom-" Brittany started, but was quickly cut off.

"Brittany Susan, don't even try to pull the ' _recipes confuse me_ ' card. You know as well as I do that it's an old excuse." Susan chastised her, and I was glad I wasn't the only one who got middle-named this weekend. "I heard you followed Maribel's recipe to make Santana French Toast. The jig is up, honey."

Brittany pouted, but Susan never fell for that. I knew she wasn't even serious about being disappointed, she loved doing things with her mom, and for the first holiday in a long time, I was excited for that too. Sneaking a quick peek in the living room, I saw that Annie was taken care of by Lizzie and Stephen, who were making animal noises while crawling around on the floor. My mom appeared beside me and squeezed my shoulder.

"It's been five months, and I still can't believe my baby girl has a baby of her own."

"Mamí." I tried to brush her off, tears stinging my eyes. I knew she wanted to have some kind of heartfelt conversation. I was still getting used to the idea that we could actually communicate.

" _Silencio, mija. Escúchame un minuto por favor._  I'm trying to tell you I'm proud of you. I know you're around Brittany's parents, and they say stuff like that every day, but you should know that even though I don't say it, I feel it." She sighed. "You've become this strong, beautiful woman and I can't wait to see what you do next."

" _Gracias, Mamí. Significa mucho para mi_. Brittany, she-"

" _Mi amor_ , I love Brittany, she's amazing for you, but you need to take some credit for yourself. Your Papi and I should have been telling you how special you are for your whole life. You're a good girl, and you've certainly accomplished a lot at a young age. And now recently, you learned how to make hard choices. You chose to get yourself help, then to be a wife and a mother. Those things weren't easy."

"Every time I see you, you're saying these big things to me."

"I'm trying to make up for all the time I didn't say the things I should to you.  _Te amo con todo mi corazón._ "

"I know." I glanced back at Annie, who was now having raspberries blown on her belly by Stephen. "You told me when I was a mother, I'd understand things differently, and I do."

My mother pulled me into another tight hug, and I squeezed her back. When we pulled apart, we shared a smile, both thankful for the place we were in. The place in our relationship where we could share more than just common blood, where we could be friends, where she could speak to me without me jumping down her throat. I grabbed her hand, pulling her back into the kitchen before I got too emotional.

"Are we making rice and beans?" I asked her, looking in Brittany's direction.

"Oh, please say yes, Mari!" Brittany shouted, dropping the sweet potato she was cutting to the floor. Susan rolled her eyes and laughed. "They're my favorite and it makes me so sad that Santana never learned how to make them!"

"I know they are Brittany, and you know I used to make them and send them over here with Santana every year. The beans are already soaking in the refrigerator."

"I love you, _te amo_ , a lot!" She shrieked, looking between my mother and I and knocking more potatoes off the counter. I leaned down to pick them up and stole a quick kiss. I loved how adorable it was whenever Britt said anything in Spanish.

The four of us worked together in the kitchen for hours and I was shocked by how much work it really took to get the meal on the table. When Lizzie came in with a hungry Annie and Brittany grabbed her with flour covered hands, I laughed at the sight and finally dropped down in a chair. It was exhausting, and I was pretty sure it was not something Britt and I would ever attempt to accomplish ourselves.

"Coffee, Santana?" Susan asked, smiling softly at my obvious exhaustion.

"Please God, yes!"

"Wow, someone's being slightly dramatic." Lizzie giggled, sitting beside me.

"Listen, just because you and your sister manage to be extremely high functioning without caffeine doesn't mean the rest of us can! Next year, I vote that Liz has to help."

Brittany seconded my vote and I sent a smug, self-satisfied look to Lizzie as Susan agreed.  _Next year_. It felt so good to have that sense of permanence in my life again, it was one of the first times I'd stopped thinking that everything was going to slip away from me in an instant. I looked at my mother, sitting on one side of Brittany, and Susan sitting on the other as she nursed the baby and I felt those happy pangs in my chest again. Liz gave me a weird look, but Britt's eyes caught mine as she finished and handed the baby to Mamí. She knew what I was feeling, that this was the first Lopez-Pierce conjoined holiday of so many more to come.

* * *

One of the things I never really understood about Thanksgiving, is why suddenly, it's dinner time in the middle of the day. It's like some weird, unspoken rule that every family had and made no actual sense. We were supposed to have dinner at two, but we held off an extra hour, waiting for Papí to arrive from work. The thing was, he was a cardio thoracic surgeon, and after I watched Brittany pour a pound of butter into the artichoke dip she made, and then still proceeded to eat nearly half of it (I mean, Britt cooked it and it was awesome,  _obviously_  I was going to inhale it) I couldn't really even be aggravated with him. Other people might have really needed their lives saved on the big food holiday after a saturated fat overdose.

" _Hola_ , Happy Thanksgiving!" He called out as he walked into the dining room. "Sorry I'm late."

"It's okay Javier." Susan promised. "Stephen is just cutting the turkey now."

"Excellent. My girls, look at the three of you." Papí came over and hugged Britt and me, then plucked Annie out of her arms, kissing both of her cheeks. " _Pequeña,_  I told all of my patients today that I was headed to see the most perfect baby there ever was."

"Wow, thanks Papi." I feigned offense, but really, was happy to hear that he actually told his patients that he had a life outside of the hospital.

"Oh,  _cállate_. You were a beautiful baby Santana, but have you seen this one?"

"Well." I lifted Annie's orange dress to tickle her belly, then pressed my nose to hers. "She is pretty cute, I guess we'll keep her."

After Lizzie helped carry the rest of the food to the table and the seven of us (plus Annie, who had ended up with Lizzie) were seated, Susan passed the first basket of dinner rolls around the table. In all the years I'd spent sitting at this table, this was one tradition I'd taken for granted, and the one I was looking forward to the most this year. Susan took the meaning of the holiday very seriously, and had everyone who graced the table write down in advance what they were most thankful for, and what they were hoping for the next year. Then she wrapped the papers in aluminum foil and baked them into rolls. Before dinner, we each would take one and had to guess who wrote what was inside.

"I'll go first!" Lizzie called out, tearing her roll in half and unwrapping the aluminum foil. "Okay, it says ' _I'm thankful for second chances and I'm hopeful for real happy endings._ '"

"Brittany!" I shouted, as if anyone else was going to guess her short, sweet and completely appropriate line before me. I kissed her behind the ear and a smile lit up her face."This one says ' _I'm thankful for little miracles and I'm hopeful for retirement._ "

"Javi?" Stephen asked, and I looked over to my father who was smiling.

"It's me, and yes, I'm retiring at the end of the year. A very wise young woman taught me this year what my priorities should be, and I'm going to make that a reality." He beamed at me, then deflected from himself so he wouldn't get caught up in emotion. "Go ahead Stephen, you can read yours."

"Okay, it says ' _I'm thankful for California boys and I'm hopeful that I'll fall in love for real_.'"

"Liz, that's too easy!" Susan shook her head.

"At least it's better than the time Brittany was thankful for Santana's boobs." Lizzie snickered. "I was twelve, guys, if you couldn't have toned it down for mom and dad's sake, you could have done it for mine."

"No way, I'm  _still_ thankful for her boobs. Have you  _seen_  them?" Britt's eyes flicked to my chest as she said it.

"A-ny-way." Susan enunciated, seeing my red face in front of my parents. "Enough about Santana's boobs  _please_. Mine says ' _I'm thankful for the lives of my daughters and granddaughter and I'm hopeful for another year of family._ "

"Mom, did you get your own?" Brittany called out, but Susan shook her head and my eyes met my mother's. It was hers, and she said ' _daughters_.' I nudged Brittany and she pressed her lips together to check her emotions.

"It's mine." Mamí admitted.

"Thank you, Mamí." Brittany nearly whispered, testing the endearment in her mouth. I put my hand on her thigh and she dropped her head to my shoulder.

"You're welcome,  _cariño_. I'll read mine next. ' _I'm thankful for health and happiness, and I'm hopeful that my daughters won't forget where they come from_.'"

"Daddy." Brittany said. "He always thinks we're going to forget about him. Mine says ' _I'm thankful for all the love in my life and I'm hopeful for more of the same_.' This is mom, because she writes the same every year."

"Well, then I guess that leaves me with Santana." Susan tore her roll apart. "' _I'm thankful for having everything I've ever wanted and I'm hopeful for a beautiful life ahead_.'"

Everyone was reflective was we passed around dishes and platters of food, but by the time Stephen finished saying Grace and we dug in, normal conversation had resumed. Britt had a tight grasp on my right hand under the table, and I silently added my left-handedness to the long list of things I was thankful for this year. It meant never having to let go of Brittany. Everyone was laughing and joking, and I felt like I'd slipped into some kind of happy coma.

When dinner was finished, Papí and Stephen sported matching aprons in the kitchen to wash the dishes and the rest of us went into the living room. Britt sat between my legs on the chaise feeding Annie and I ran my fingers through her hair. Looking at our moms and Lizzie, I once again couldn't keep the smile off of my face. Come whatever else may, this had been an absolutely perfect day. When our father's carried out dishes of pie and mugs of hot chocolate, Brittany snuggled in closer to me and I tucked a blanket around all three of us.

"I'm thankful for moments like this." Brittany said softly, and I wasn't sure anyone heard her until I saw nods coming from around the room.

At some point, Susan snapped a picture of us, Annie's little head peeking out of the blankets, and Mamí was making her promise that she would email it to her. Stephen and Papí were talking about the Buckeyes, and Lizzie sat on the floor beside us, head resting on Britt's leg. When Brittany started humming, I knew what time it was, and quietly, at first, we began singing. Once everyone else joined in, we raised our voices and Annie looked around with the same wonderment she always did when music started.  _Through the years we all will be together, if the fates allow_ , we sang, and I figured that we were safe, that the fates had tested us all enough for one lifetime.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Silencio, mija. Escúchame un minuto por favor- Be quiet, daughter. Listen to me for a minute please.
> 
> Significa mucho para mi- That means a lot to me
> 
> Te amo con todo mi corazón.- I love you with my whole heart
> 
> pequeña- little girl
> 
> cállate- shut up
> 
> pequeña- dear


	52. Redemption

At 10:30 on the morning after Thanksgiving, Mamí and I were sitting at a booth in Lulu's Diner deep in conversation about the fact that my father was finally retiring. Annie was asleep in her carseat on the bench next to me, a typical New York baby who wasn't bothered in the slightest by all of the commotion around her. Brittany, Susan and Lizzie had left for the Lima Mall at 5:15 in the morning, for their usual Black Friday shopping extravaganza. Brittany had always gone more to laugh at the other two than to actually shop, but it was tradition, a completely insane one, but still.

"I don't understand, after all this time of working like, a billion hours a week Papí just all of a sudden decided he wants to retire? When did he even figure this out?"

"He started talking about it when we came back from New York, he meant what he said yesterday about you teaching him what his priorities are. It may have taken him twenty-five years, but seeing how you were with your wife and daughter when they were so sick, I think it really hit home for him."

"I know about what happened when I was born." I quietly confessed. "When you were telling Brittany, I was listening."

" _Mi amor_ , you are many things, but quiet is not one of them, I knew you were there. It wasn't a secret, it was your story to hear whenever you were ready. But yes, your father  _had_ to go back to work five hours after you were born, and even if he  _hadn't_  needed to, he probably would have anyway. Saving lives came easy to him, but when emotions got involved, when it was his own daughter fighting, his own wife struggling, it was too hard." My mother took a breath before continuing, and I waited anxiously. "I don't think he ever regretted that until he saw how it could have been if he'd stayed. It broke his heart to watch you look so torn, but it also impressed him so much to see that you turned out to be stronger than him."

"Okay." I paused, thinking about it for a minute. "So he went back to work and just told them he was done?"

"No, he actually didn't make the decision until after your  _abuela_ passed away, and he spoke to you outside the house. He knew then that there was still a real possibility of redeeming your relationship, of having a good one with his granddaughter. All his life, he thought that being published in journals, being the head of cardio thoracic surgery, creating new surgical techniques were the most important things in the world. But he missed a lot of your life, and a lot of our marriage and he didn't want to miss any more. The next day, he went in and started searching for a replacement."

"So what are  _you_ going to do now?"

"I'm still going to work, but my job is much more flexible. We'll spend time together, travel a bit, come see you girls in New York."

"That's great Mamí. And I do want to work on my relationship with him. To tell you the truth, a few months ago, I wouldn't have even thought about trying, but he's different now."

"He's the man I married again, Santana. You only ever saw small glimpses of him."

I considered that while I ate my French Toast, and knew that my mother was right. The few memories I have of being with my father as a child were good ones. As a teenager, he was gone most of the time, and when he was around, I'd thwarted his efforts to spend time with me. Now, I was realizing just how much I'd always sought his affection, which was the exact reason I'd pushed him away. But it was far past time to have a good relationship with him, and although we were in different states, I was willing to put in the work.

"Brittany and I want to do Christmas in New York. With the dance showcase a few days before, we thought it might be nice to invite everyone..." I trailed off, still awkward about asking people to do things.

"I don't even have to ask you father, we'd love to be there,  _mija._ He's finished with work on the seventeenth, and I think this is a great way for him to start his new life off right." Mamí was grinning, something I don't think I'd ever seen before. "And I think it's great for the three of you to start your own traditions. Christmas in the city will be beautiful."

* * *

Later that afternoon, I was sitting with my back against the headboard of Brittany's bed, Annie laying in the space between my legs shaking her squeaky cat toy. Britt was bouncing up and down excitedly, opening up bag after bag of the purchases her mom had made for the baby. The amount of shopping everyone did for our daughter was beginning to border on intervention-worthy, both for their own wallets and for the sake of the space in our apartment. But seeing how excited they all got, I couldn't exactly be the bad guy who put an end to it.

"Hey Britt, come sit with me for a sec." I patted the bed beside me and she stopped at the twelfth pair of Carter's pajamas to come to my side.

"Hi." She smiled, and planted a kiss on my lips. "Sorry, I got really excited about showing you the clothes. But I forgot, I haven't done that all day."

"Mmmm, you're right, you haven't." My eyes met hers and I took a deep breath. "Do you still want to go tonight?"

"I mean, I'd  _like_  to go, but it's totally your call Santana. I'm not the one Rachel has been harassing about it for five weeks."

Harassing was definitely an understatement. Since breaking the solemn vow of graduating Glee Club members to reunite at Thanksgiving during their first year in New York, Rachel and Kurt had made it a personal mission to plan something every year after. Despite their constant pleading, even in the early years when I  _did_  spend the holidays in Lima, I refused to go. I didn't want any of the others to see back then that I'd basically amounted to nothing, especially when they all were doing so well. But now, for the first time, I was actually proud of my life, and after discussing it with Britt, we decided it might be a nice idea.

"I  _do_  want to go, I'm just not sure that any of them are going to react well to me. I mean, you were there the first time I saw my  _friends_  after I didn't show up at Sam's funeral, the first time I saw Quinn after her wedding."

"And once the actually took a second to understand the hell you were going through, they were the ones who were apologizing. No one has any right to judge you for that, and if they do, then we'll leave and never see them again. But I don't believe that they will, I think that they'll be glad to see you happy and doing really well."

"I hope so Britt. I do really want to see them, and I do want them to meet Annie."

"We'll go and play it by year then. You feel uncomfortable for a second and we'll leave." She kissed me again, sealing that promise, and I leaned into her.

"I know they're probably all going to be drinking. I want you to know that it's totally okay if you feel like joining them." I flicked my eyes away from her's, feeling a little embarrassed.

"Hey, look at me." She put her hand under my chin. "You don't need to feel insecure about this, especially not with me. Number one, I don't feel any need to drink to have fun tonight. Number two, this is the first time you're going to be around people who are drinking and people who don't know why you don't anymore. Even if I  _did_  want to drink, this would definitely not be the night that I'd decide to."

"Thanks, Brittany." I said softly. "I just never want you to feel like my vast array of issues hold you back from doing things."

" _Our_  issues, remember? We don't go through things alone anymore. And you'll never hold me back, you shouldn't even think that way. I love you and everything about you, don't ever forget it."

* * *

A few hours later, one of my hands squeezed Brittany's like a vice, and my other arm held Annie against me as we walked into BreadStix. I wanted to go, really, I did, but I was still so nervous about seeing these people I hadn't seen in years. In high school, I'd been a raging bitch to most of them, and all they really knew of me after that (besides the fact that I'd been brutally attacked) was that I never returned phone calls or e-mails, and that I'd completely blown off both Quinn's wedding and Sam's funeral. Yeah, to them, (even if my friends  _did_ defend me) I was probably sophomore year Santana with way more issues.

"Santana, Brittany!" Finn called from a long table in the back of the restaurant and Brittany waved with her free hand. At least he and Rachel were there already, hopefully Rachel could distract people from my presence with her big mouth.

"Hey guys!" Brittany skipped over and I tried to contain my eye roll when I saw Artie already sitting (as opposed to his other positions?) at the table. I guess my resentment towards him still hadn't died, but I smiled politely.

"Well hello ladies." He gave us that weird smile that no one else seemed to find creepy but me. "Long time, no see."

He droned on about some kind of video game production project he was working on, and I could tell that even Britt was trying to keep from zoning out. He'd hardly even asked about us, which led me to believe he didn't care, so I stepped away and let my mind wander. We were lucky that Rachel used Twitter excessively, and had been known, of late, to be a little heavy on the hash tag #brittanababy. At least the direction our lives had taken was no surprise to anyone, it made things  _slightly_ easier.

"Relax." I heard Finn say quietly to me, pausing to ruffle Annie's hair. "I spoke to every one of them personally once you agreed to come. They're all happy that they get to see you and Brittany after so long and especially, that they can meet the goddaughter that Rach and I can't stop raving about."

"You called them?" I asked, although I wasn't sure why Finn's thoughtful gestures surprised me anymore. "Did you tell them about..."

"No, I'd never tell them about something private that you're going through, you know that, but yes, I did call them. I'm happy you're finally here, and I didn't want anyone making you feel uncomfortable. Rachel and I both agreed that although we have fun doing this every year, it means nothing in comparison to our friendship with you."

"Wow. Thanks Finn. You're really trying to soften me up, aren't you?"

"Too late I think, you're becoming a big old softie without any help from anyone else."

I punched him playfully on the arm and noticed that Kurt and Blaine were walking in the door on either side of Mercedes. She looked fantastic, and I felt a grin forming on my face.

"Wheezy!" I called out, surprising myself that I'd made an effort to be the first to say hello.

"Satan! Is that really you?" She broke away from Kurt and Blaine and stopped her motions to hug me when she saw what was in my arms. I thought I saw a flicker of sadness, probably about Sam, but she pushed it away quickly. "Girl, you still look hot! I can't believe I haven't seen you since Mr. Schue's not-wedding, and now here you are all married and old. And look at this beautiful baby girl."

"Hi Mercedes! You're dressed as a girl today." Brittany turned and chirped, winking at me. She'd really had everyone convinced during her second senior year that she thought Mercedes and that Unique kid were the same person. If only they'd fully understood her sense of humor, and realized that she didn't really believe that. It was her way to hold on to some of the past when we'd all left her behind.

"Brittany, wow, you look great. I can't believe you just had a baby." Mercedes pulled Britt into a hug and I smiled watching them.

"Really? I can show you the scar if you want..." Britt started to lift her shirt and I grabbed her hand.

"Babe, you know I think it's beautiful, but I think 'Cedes believes you without seeing it."

Mercedes gave me an appreciative look, and I smiled and nodded. Truth be told, it was her reaction to all of this that I'd probably been most concerned about. Besides Quinn, and obviously Britt, she'd been the closest thing to a friend I'd had in the Glee Club, and I'd just totally blown her off, even before everything went crazy. Maybe it was Finn's phone call, or maybe Brittany and Rachel had always been right about all of us being a family, even years later. She was standing there not judging me, and pretending that everything that had happened between the last time I'd seen her and this very moment didn't exist. That was pretty cool.

"I've heard some of your stuff." She told me. "Kinda sucks that you're with Columbia, if you ever wanna jump ship, HTTN Records would be  _thrilled_ to have talent like yours. And that's even without hearing your voice. I don't know why you're not singing, but you should be."

"Santittany!" Puck, who had apparently lost the Mohawk, screamed before I could answer Mercedes and I rolled my eyes. "I've seen-and done-a lot of MILFs in my time, but you two are definitely the hottest. Any chance married sex is boring you, and you want to spice things up in the bedroom with some Puckasaurus?"

"Puckerman, I'd suggest you shut your mouth in front of my kid if you want to keep your balls outside of your body." I threatened, and Britt frowned at the thought of violence.

"Hey, hey, easy! I'm just kidding." He threw one arm over each of our shoulders and smiled at Annie. "She looks just like you, Brittany. How's married life treating you guys?"

We told him about New York, though I kind of had the feeling that he'd heard a lot of it from Finn, since they still spoke occasionally. I was happy to hear that he'd finally sold a screenplay and was waiting for the casting to start. Puck and I had always had a lot in common, a lot a potential with very little faith in ourselves, though we'd hidden it well behind cocky attitudes. I was glad that he'd stopped getting in his own way too.

"You look like you're doing really well, Santana." He told me when Britt went to go see Quinn, her husband Archie and Tina who'd just come in.

"Yeah, I am. Sorry, you know, that we didn't keep in touch."

"Me too, I've known you since I was five. But I get it, you may have ruled the school in high school, but it still pretty much sucked for you. I'm surprised you didn't cut all your ties."

"Who would have though, right, that I'd be best friends with Rachel Berry and Finn Hudson? At the end of Junior year, I was planning on changing my name and going to live in a lesbian colony, I was so over it."

"What the hell is a lesbian colony?"

" _Not_  a real thing. But yeah, then Berry and Lady Face let me live in their apartment, and it's like  _Hotel California_  with them. I'm stuck for life."

"And you secretly love it."

"Unfortunately."

I was nervous when everyone sat down and started ordering drinks. They remembered me as the girl who would finish bottles of scotch with Puck almost every weekend, who did bodyshots off of Brittany, who got trashed at Mr. Schue's not-wedding and (thanks to Tina) hooked up with Quinn. Those probably should have all been reasons enough why I didn't drink anymore. I didn't want anyone to ask anything, I didn't want to have to explain. Brittany took Annie back from Mike, who'd become infatuated with her, and slipped her into my arms. She always knew exactly what to do to comfort me.

"We'll both have strawberry lemonades." Britt told the waitress and squeezed my thigh.

"Lopez! You're not going to have a drink with me?" Puck called from across the table, and Finn kept his eyes on me.

"It's Lopez- _Pierce._ " I rolled my eyes at Puck and looked at Brittany, feeling a little panicked.

_I would tell them for you, but you know that you need to be the one who says no._ Her eyes told me.  _You can do this, tell them whatever you want, whatever truth you want to tell them is your truth to share._

"She'll take a Johnny Walker Black, neat." Puck told the waitress and I inhaled sharply.

"No, I'm fine with the lemonade. I don't...I gave up drinking." I felt too many eyes on me, and I looked down, pretending to do a button on the baby's dress. There was a stunned silence, and the waitress slowly backed away. "I'm going to go change her diaper."

I stood from the table and walked quickly to the bathroom, feeling like I was going to cry. It wasn't like I hadn't expected it to come up, hell, I probably even expected it from Puck, but it made me feel lesser. Maybe I  _could_  have one drink without risking a dark spiral, but probably not, and that wasn't a risk I was willing to take. I'd be lying if I said I no longer felt the urge to have a drink every day, good or bad, so the road I was on was still long, no sense wandering off now. Brittany was two steps behind me, I knew, and I could hear Quinn ripping into Puck at the table.

"Didn't you learn when you got me drunk and knocked me up not to pressure people into drinking?" She yelled at him, and if I wasn't so upset I would have laughed.

When I reached the bathroom, I held myself up against the wall and Brittany pulled me close to her, baby between us, when she made it in. I wasn't going to cry, I just wanted to remember the reasons again, the reasons why I broke myself from that dark place.

"The last time we were against the wall in a bathroom, you weren't this strong." She whispered into my hair. "You've been sober for nine months honey, that's a strength, not a weakness. Do you want to go home?"

Before I could answer, Quinn burst through the bathroom door face flaming.

"I told Puck I was going to cut his dick off if he didn't apologize to you. Rachel's out there screaming at him some more. Are you okay?"

"Wow." Brittany let out a small giggle. "Both of you threatened to dismember Puck tonight. Some things are never going to change. Usually I'm against violence, but I think he had it coming this time."

"It's not his fault." I said quietly. "We had a nice conversation not a half hour ago, I guess he just expected me to be how I used to be. People don't walk around thinking people are alcoholics, I guess. _But_  I did miss us threatening his junk. I don't want to leave Britt, I was having a good time. I just feel like an idiot now."

"You're not an idiot, Santana." Quinn spoke before Britt could. "And if you didn't notice, those of us that know you had already ordered soda, and once the waitress felt safe enough to come back to the table, the others changed theirs too. Even after all this time, we all still support each other, crazy as it sounds."

"Quinn, I'm saying thanks to you twice in a three day period. I think that's more than I've said it in twelve years."

She laughed and took the baby from me so I could wrap my arms fully around Brittany. After an extremely long hug, followed by an even longer kiss, we made our way back to the table. Puck was staring down sheepishly and Rachel was still glaring. I looked from Tina to Mercedes to Artie to Mike, and none of them really knew where to allow their eyes. I kind of felt like Rachel, with an uncanny ability to make any situation about her.

"Guys." I finally said, knowing that what Quinn said was right. "I have a drinking problem, and I haven't had a drink since February, okay? Now can we please go back to talking about  _anything_ else? Fight the overwhelming urge to dedicate songs to me."

"You know they all want to!" Mike broke the tension. "Luckily, I can't sing. But maybe Finn wants to sing  _Girls Just Wanna Have Fun_  again? Because it was  _so_ appropriate and not at all _creepy_ the first time."

"Santana, ignore him, since he can't be serious for a second. I'm pretty impressed with you." Tina smiled, and I realized she wasn't the same gossip queen she used to be, she'd grown too.

There were nods and murmuring all around, and Puck came over and gave me a hug. This would happen among people who were less supportive, some day, and I was glad that for the first time, it was with people who still found a way to love me after so much time. Britt was smiling proudly at me, and I stuck a breadstick in my mouth to show her that I was totally fine. For the rest of the night, we all talked about our lives, our futures, and told stories about the ridiculousness of our shared past. It was a positive feeling, and I finally felt a sense of redemption of the things that we all held against each other in the past. It was different, being together as adults, but it was good different. We'd all see each other again at the wedding, and I felt like maybe I would actually try again to put in an effort. They were family, more like distant cousins than my "family" in New York, but still family nonetheless.


	53. Goodbye, For Real

We had been back in New York for four days, after our weekend of escape from reality in Lima. I didn't need to look at the clock to know that it was too early to be awake, but we both were, we both knew what day it was. Brittany's nails dug into my arms as I held her from behind, fighting her emotions, I knew, but we didn't speak, we just lay there in silence. It wasn't long before I could feel the sobs wracking her body, and I held her tighter as she cried.

It was hard to believe that it had been an entire year since the Bow Tie Brigade had knocked on the door, waking me with the news that would forever change my life. But today wasn't about me, it wasn't about how my life was changed. It was about Brittany, about letting her remember and letting her grieve. It was about Sam, the man who had grown in my esteem since his untimely passing, the man who I would forever be grateful to. It was about Annie, about finding a lasting way to let her keep someone she'd never know, yet who was so vitally a part of her, in her heart.

So little time had passed, and yet everything had changed. In just a few short months, I'd gone from physically recoiling (despite my best efforts) at the mention of Sam Evans' name, to being able to talk about him openly, to spending time with his family (who, unfortunately for us, had been in Florida with Penny's sister when we were in Ohio. They needed to get away from real life, Brittany and I both knew the feeling) and now, to spending four days wracking my brain for any possible way to make this day easier on my wife. But I'd realized, maybe some things just aren't meant to be easy. Maybe some things we just have to pass in the best way we know how.

"I don't think about him every day anymore." Brittany whispered through her tears, not wanting to wake the baby. She turned in my arms so her nose was pressed against mine and sighed. "Is that horrible?"

"Britt." I sighed, not knowing the right answers for her. "I think that someone doesn't have to consciously pass through your thoughts every day for you to still care about them, to still remember them."

"I can't believe it's been a year." Her fingers absently brushed her rib cage, pressing hard against the bones that were once broken.

"Don't-" I started, but stopped myself. Sometimes you had to make yourself feel that something was real, I knew that from experience. "It's hitting you again, isn't it?"

"Yeah.  _All_  of it." Fresh tears sprung to her eyes, and she let them fall. I knew it was about more than the hardship that came with marking the anniversary of Sam's death, it was about the things we'd put off speaking about.

"Britt, don't do that to yourself, not today. There are three-hundred-sixty-four other days where we can talk about  _that_ , figure out the jumbled mess off emotions that is our life. But if you go there today, you're going to make yourself crazy." It couldn't always be about  _us_. Sometimes it had to be about our separate battles.

"I know. You're right. It's just that all of reality is hitting so hard again."

"Yeah, I wish we could have stayed away from it forever." I kissed her between the eyes, softening her furrowed brow. "Are you going into work today?"

"I need to." She sighed. "I only have a few weeks left to prepare, and honestly, I can't just sit here and replay last year in my head all day."

"It's a good idea. But if you're going to dance all day, you should try to get some more sleep."

She nodded into my chest, and I could feel the tears that were still falling. She needed to be sad, but seeing her cry would never become any less painful. I rubbed her back with one hand and ran my hand through her hair with the other, humming notes with no song to soothe her. We lay there like that for close to an hour, until I finally felt her breathing slow and her tears stop falling. Watching her sleep, I hoped that the rest of our lives wouldn't be punctuated with these intense bouts of sadness, that eventually, they would be tiny blips on long stretches of joy.

* * *

At a quarter to four, with Annie buttoned up inside of my coat, I waited outside of Britt's studio. She looked absolutely exhausted, probably from the combination of lack of sleep and never letting her feet stay still. I frowned looking down at her gloveless hands, and knowing her tendency to lose them on a regular basis, pulled out the extra pair I always kept in my coat pocket for that reason. She smiled weakly as she put them on before her lips were on mine and then all over the baby's head. Then, without a word, she slipped her hand into mine and we walked.

It was a strange juxtaposition, the thoughts that were passing through our heads and the state of the city. It was December, and though I'd mentally checked out in previous years, it was hard to avoid (when you're sober) the trappings of Christmas that were everywhere. Garland, twinkling lights, gigantic wrapped presents and Santas on every corner. It was beautiful, really, but my mind wandered to Sam's parents, wondering how they could tolerate so much happiness when they were so sad. Looking at Brittany gave me my answer, as I watched her grinning at a particularly fat and jolly (and not "sun-tanned") Santa.

"I'm embracing happiness. Some super hot, super smart girl once told me that it was okay to do that." Brittany said simply, answering the question that I hadn't asked. It was what I'd told her after Sam's parents had visited us, and I was glad that every once in a while, I was capable of giving decent advice, even if I never could take my own. "And that guy is so much better than the Santa at the Lima Mall."

"Britt,  _I'm_ a better Santa than the Santa at the Lima Mall. That guy is gross."

"No, you'd make a terrible Santa."

"What? Why?" I gasped, faking offense.

"Because." She pressed her lips close to my ear. "Santa only comes once a year."

My cheeks burned and I looked around to see if anyone had heard. That was Brittany, the woman I was so over-the-top, ridiculously in love with. The woman who could break herself from her own dark thought processes to make a sexual comment without skipping a beat. It was moments like that where I felt like the air could fill my lungs completely again, moments where I believed that in the end, everything would really be okay.

We had to make a stop before reaching our destination, and I smiled inwardly when Brittany walked out of the card store with three green balloons in her hand. It looked like we were headed to the circus, not down to the water to send messages to the great beyond. But that's what we were doing, the solution I'd finally come up with and that Brittany had been thrilled by. We'd tie messages to Sam on the balloons and let them go. Okay, neither of us believed that he was going to  _get_  the messages, but it was a way to mark the day of his passing, something simple but meaningful.

"Thank you, Santana." Britt said to me as we approached the desolate pier.

"For what?"

"Today, every day. I don't know. You just never took the easy way out on things, you've made it such a point to have reminders of Sam for the baby, to allow me what I need to get through bad days like this. It's just different than I ever expected."

"Britt." I could feel my throat tightening. "I love you more than anything, and I know you love me just as much. When you first got here, I was already so used to being jealous of Sam that I couldn't stop right away. People say you can't compete with a ghost, but I don't think there needs to be a competition. I have you, I have Annie, completely, every single day for the rest of my life, and I'm beyond lucky for that. You deserve to be able to remember Sam however you want, Annie deserves to know about the man who is partially responsible for bringing her into this world. That doesn't make me any less your wife, or any less her mother."

"Wow."

"I know." I laughed, impressed with myself. "I think I finally have been with you long enough that some of your genius is rubbing off on me."

When we reached the end of the pier, I unbuckled Annie from the warmth of my chest and handed her to Brittany. Rifling through my bag, I pulled out the envelope with three sheets of paper folded inside. On the first, a letter from Brittany, the second, Annie's hand and footprints in pink paint (we'd decided on that she should send something, even if she had no idea what was happening) and the third, a letter from me. Yes, even I'd written a letter to Sam, surprising as it was even to myself. But I had things I needed to say that I couldn't say out loud, and this seemed like the perfect way to get them out.

After tying the papers to the balloon strings, I handed two of them to Brittany and gestured her forward. I'd wait a few steps behind, give her a minute before joining her at the end of the pier. I'd learned from my own life that sometimes there are things we need to do on our own. This was some kind of closure for her, I knew that and wanted her to have as much time as she needed. I watched as my wife and daughter stepped towards the end of the pier and Brittany let go of the balloons.

"Sam." She said quietly, but in the stillness of the late fall I could hear her. "At your funeral, I couldn't say goodbye to you. Instead, I sat there crying and feeling sorry for myself because I felt responsible. But today, after a year has passed, I want to say what I should have said then. I'm sorry for a lot of things. I'm sorry that I led you on so I wouldn't feel alone, I'm sorry that I couldn't love you the way you deserved to be loved, and I'm sorry for what happened on the night you died. A few months ago, I thought that I was sorry for being happy, but then I realized that Santana was right, that you'd always wanted me to be happy, and I'm doing just that, so I can't be sorry. You know, Annie has two moms that love her, and she has you watching out for her too, so I know she's the luckiest girl in the entire world. I'm rambling a lot, but you know I do that. Basically, what I wanted to tell you is that today I'm saying goodbye to you for real, and I'm forgiving myself since you can't be here to do it. I love you Sammy, I hope you're happy with a ghost girlfriend or something and that the evil dwarf up there is being nice to you."

I hadn't even noticed that I'd let my own balloon go, I was so amazed listening to Brittany. I looked down at my watch and saw that the time was right. It was exactly a year ago, forgive me for sounding like Rachel, but five hundred twenty-five thousand six hundred minutes earlier, something happened that could have taken Brittany away from me forever, but instead, was the same thing that brought her back. I wasn't being selfish, I'd told Sam as much in the letter I'd written. I'd apologized to him (Santana Lopez didn't do apologies, but apparently Santana Lopez-Pierce did) for hating him when he'd never really done anything wrong. I thanked him for taking care of Brittany, for helping to create Annalise. And I'd promised him that even though we couldn't sell a reality show to MTV about he, Brittany and I attempting to parent one child together, I would never let our daughter forget that she had more than just two moms. Words would never be enough, but I had to write them and hope that wherever he was, he understood that what I felt for him transcended anything that I could ever write.

"San?" Brittany held her free arm out to me and I moved in to stand with her and Annalise.

"Are you alright?"

"I am. Closure is weird, you'd think it would make you feel worse to say goodbye for good, you know?" I nodded, letting her continue. "But then it's just over. I needed to do this."

"It was good you did."

There wasn't much else I could say, there wasn't even much else I could think. I just stood there, arms around Brittany and Annie looking out at the East River that looked significantly less disgusting than usual. We could see our breath in the air, the Christmas lights in the windows of the high rises in Queens, and I couldn't help but hum the song that Rachel was dedicating to Sam in her Rent performance at that very moment.  _Oh, you got to, you got to remember the love. You know that life is a gift from up above._ The snow started to fall for the first time and Annie's eyes were wide, trying to make sense of the sky. I looked at the smile on Brittany's face, and I felt what she was feeling. That it was some kind of sign of approval for me, of forgiveness for her from the man who would forever be a part of this family.

 


	54. These Times Are Hard

Before I moved to New York, I'd seen dozens of movies about the wintertime here. In every single one, the snow is fluffy, white and absolutely beautiful. Cut to real life, and it is  _definitely_  none of the above. It's a huge stereotype that New Yorkers complain all the time about the weather, but honestly, in my experience, it is completely justified. More than anywhere else, we walk outside, take public transportation that is extremely sensitive to temperature fluctuations, it's a mess. To put it simply,  _no one_  likes extremes, and that's what bad weather, hot or cold, is in the city. For two days after our night on the pier, the snow didn't stop, and for two days, I kept the baby in the house, not wanting to risk going out with her in the gloomy gray world. Brittany, on the other hand, had to go out to work, and I tried to blame the weather for the quiet, contemplative mood she'd fallen into.

In the middle of the third night, the sound of ice chipping against the window behind our bed woke me, and I rolled to snuggle closer to Brittany. When I realized she wasn't in bed, I felt my heart lurch, thinking of the last time I'd woken without her in the middle of the night. When I stood up, I heard the familiar sound of bare feet against the wood floor, working up a beautiful rhythm and I relaxed. Slowly opening the bedroom door, as not to startle her, I stood in the threshold just watching. Her headphones were in her ears and her back was to me, so she didn't know I was there, but my breath caught, never getting tired of seeing how exceptionally beautiful she was when she danced.

"Hey." She said softly, turning around and noticing me there. "Did I wake you up?"

"No, the damn weather is too loud. Why are you awake?"

"Couldn't sleep." She shrugged. That's when I saw how red her eyes were, and I started making steps to close the gap between up.

"Brittany." I took both of her hands and stood so we were face to face, an impossibly small gap separating us. "You were crying, you've been quiet for days, and as much as I'd like to blame everything on this shit falling from the sky, we both know what's bothering you. We have to talk about it, and  _apparently_ we have our best conversations in the middle of the night."

She rolled her eyes and let out a strangled laugh before putting her arms around me. Her heart was still pounding from dancing and I moved my hand between our bodies to rest on it. When the pulse finally slowed, I kissed her there, before taking back Brittany's hands and leading her over to the couch. She sat and leaned back against the cushions before I sat beside her, my leg barely brushing hers.

"I feel so selfish right now." She said, her voice barely a whisper. "I just feel so all around awful and I don't know what to do to make it go away."

"Britt-" She shook her head, cutting me off.

"Please, I need to just talk before you tell me that it's all going to be okay. Alright?" I nodded, urging her to continue. "I can't wrap my head around anything, Santana, and I can't stop blaming myself. All I've done is replay that night in the locker room in my mind, tried to feel less responsible, but I can't. Of all the nights in the world for me to be there, it was that one. You paid a terrible price for my coming back and then I fucking  _left_ you. You said that you were grateful it was you and not me, but I'm not, I can't be. And now I feel like such a horrible person because you're getting through it and I feel like I can't help you because I'm stuck."

She buried her head in her hands in an effort to avoid my eyes. I didn't touch her, she needed the space as two weeks worth of emotional buildup poured out of her. It felt easy when we were avoiding the topic, but it hadn't been easy in either of our heads. Try as I might, I'd never be good at words like Brittany was, and I wasn't even sure I had the vocabulary to make this better. I just needed her to _know_ , I needed her to  _understand_  that it wasn't her fault, that I'd never blame her.

"Brittany." I sighed, my heart breaking at the sight of her. Susan promised me that she was processing it, that I'd done the right thing, and I was trying to believe her. But watching the woman I loved look so emotionally distraught was making it harder and harder. "I don't even know the words to say to you right now. I need you to look at me, I need you to feel everything I'm feeling inside of me."

"I can't. I'm so afraid to feel it, I'm so afraid that you're going to feel about me the way I feel about myself right now."

"Look at me." I bit my lip, struggling to keep myself together. She flicked her eyes upward, but quickly cast them down again. "Do you love me?"

"What? Of course I love you!" With that, her eyes bored into mine and I forced her to keep the connection.

"Do you trust me?"

"With my life."

"Then I need you to listen to me. We aren't going to talk about the fact that you left. It's done, it was a lifetime ago, and you know that we've already worked through that. No going back on promises, right? But we can talk about the night I was attacked as much as you want, and for as long as you want. I know there are a million questions you want to ask, and a million emotions you need to express. I'm ready for that, but I need you to do something first."

"What?" The tears were still spilling from her eyes.

"You have to trust that the way you feel about yourself right now is not the way I feel about you, not the way I'm ever going to feel about you. You may believe you caused this, but I don't."

Brittany didn't give me my answer right away, she just stared out the living room window at the sleet that was coming down. I waited, not wanting to push her, but wanting to scream at the universe, or God, or whatever for the fact that this was a never ending battle. One step forward, two steps back, and it was emotionally unsettling. She had forgiven herself for Sam, and now she couldn't forgive herself for me, forgive herself for something that wasn't even remotely her fault.

"It's harder, you know." She said, and I realized that she was thinking exactly what I was. "With you, everything feels so much stronger than with anyone else. I get to love you so much harder, but it also makes the way I feel about this so much worse."

"I understand that, trust me, I do. And I understand what you said about not being able to feel grateful that it was me instead of you. When you started bleeding out on the table when Annie was born, the only thing I could think to wish was that our roles could have been reversed."

"I want to trust you, about not blaming me Santana, but he saw  _us_. That's not something I'm going to get over easily."

"I'm not asking you to, Britt. You never asked me to rush through my processes, and I would never ask you to skate through something that's so painful for you. But please, don't project your thoughts onto me. It's not fair to either of us."

"Okay." She said after several minutes of silence passed. "I can do that,"

* * *

Two more days passed, and there was nothing more I could say to Brittany. The snow didn't stop, and I was starting to feel stir-crazy being stuck inside. All I could do was think about the situation, try to find a way for everything to all make sense. At least I'd made a small step, at least she trusted that  _I_  didn't hold her responsible. How could I? How was there anything she could have done to stop what happened? It wasn't even possible that one kiss was a direct catalyst for an unhinged human being (and I use that term lightly, because he clearly wasn't entirely human if he could do what he did) to make an attempt on my life. It was too well planned, and with the exception of, obviously, him failing to actually kill me, it was too well executed. There was so much more to the story than the three parts I knew- him at the club, him seeing me with Brittany, and him slitting my throat. That's what I couldn't stop obsessing about, how for the first time, I needed answers.  _We_ needed a sense of closure that could only come in a way that may not have even been possible.

I was still thinking about it as I stood in the kitchen making pancakes after my third sleepless night, while Brittany and Annie stayed asleep in the other room. It was Saturday, we always had pancakes on Saturdays, so I tried to keep something normal while everything else felt out of control. Pouring the batter into the pan, the questions kept coming to me and I needed to give myself some kind of answers. Where was the starting point after avoiding this for four years? Was I really emotionally capable of cutting open an old would so it could be properly restitched? How did I even broach the subject with Brittany while she was so stuck in her own head? As I finished my third cup of coffee and piled the pancakes onto a plate to bring in the bedroom, I figured out the only way I could even begin.

"Hey, my beautiful girls." I said, walking in the bedroom. Brittany sat with her pajama top unbuttoned, staring at Annie who was lying on the bed beside her, obviously content after having her breakfast. "Did you get any sleep Britt?"

"A little. You didn't sleep either, you didn't have to bring me breakfast."

"I wanted to, I figured we could lay in bed for a while and relax. But I'm going to see if Rachel can come and stay with Annie for a little while later. There's something I need to do if you'll come with me."

"What is it?"

"I think that we should go see where it happened." I said it so quietly that I wasn't sure if she'd heard me.

"Have you ever...?" She trailed off and I shook my head. There was a long pause and I held my breath, waiting. "Okay. I'll go."

It was strange, we'd made probably one of the most monumental decisions of our lives in under a minute. We didn't need to discuss it further, I think Brittany understood that it was the first step towards something bigger, something that might eventually allow both of us to heal. Maybe to outsiders, it seemed like I was only trying to put an end to it because of Brittany, because I needed the answers for her sake, but that wasn't the case. Subconsciously, I'd probably always known that my life would come to the same moment, the moment where I finally had to face it all head on, and knowing that I wasn't alone in my need for it to end made the first step so much easier.

* * *

"Are you ready?" Brittany asked, our hands clasped tightly together as we walked up the steps of the Columbus Circle subway station.

"I've been doing nothing but  _talking_  about it. I need to take some kind of action." It didn't really answer the question, but I knew she'd understand. I'd  _never_  be ready to see the place where my whole life took a terrifying turn, but I had to take the leap anyway. "What about you Britt? Are you okay with this?"

"I am."

"Just remember what I said when we left the house, today neither of us have to be the strong ones."

"I remember. We're in it together."

The snow was falling in huge white flakes as I counted one-hundred-twenty-six steps from the northwestern most exit of the huge transportation hub to the alleyway. It seemed like the neighborhood had improved, exponentially, since the last time I'd been there, but I wasn't sure if it was just because I was finally seeing it in the light of day. When I reached one-hundred-twenty, I pulled Britt's hand up to rest over my heart. She nodded, appreciative of the feeling of my heartbeat, and we walked the remaining distance to the six foot wide gap between a hair salon and a liquor store. It took me a minute to realize that I wasn't breathing, but once I opened my mouth to speak, I let out a long breath.

"This is it. I passed this every single day and never even noticed it was here."

" _This is it._ " Brittany echoed, unmoving.

We didn't speak for a few minutes, we just stood staring into the space. There was a dumpster about thirty feet in, and I couldn't help but wonder if it was still the same one where they'd found the knife. I rubbed my forehead with my free hand, trying to stop my mind from repeating  _this is it_  over and over again. Four years, and it didn't feel any less surreal that I was in the place where I'd almost died. But I was standing there and breathing, and actually didn't feel like I was going to black out with emotion, or worse, flash back to that night. I actually didn't feel  _anything_ , it was just an empty space, and there was something almost freeing about that. Looking away from the alleyway, my eyes found Brittany's, and they were wide.

"I want answers, for both of us." She said carefully.

"That's why I wanted to come here, I needed to know if I was really ready to get involved in this, ready to do what I couldn't four years ago."

"The police?"

"Yes." I sighed,

"What did you tell them then, Santana?" She stepped in front of me and rested her hands on my shoulders. I swallowed hard and looked into her eyes.

"I didn't really  _tell_  them anything. Back then, I mostly just yelled and screamed about everything. Britt, some of this might be hard for you to hear. Just remember what we talked about the other night, okay?" She moved one hand from my shoulder and used it to link our pinkies together in silent promise. "It's fucked up when they ask you questions about shit you won't even make yourself think about. But this one guy, the detective, came every day for a week and by the seventh day, I couldn't take it anymore. I kept trying to make the pieces come together from that night, trying to figure out how he'd seen me kissing someone when I couldn't remember it happening."

"I forgot you didn't remember." Her voice was hoarse from trying to keep tears from falling.

"Yeah." I pressed my lips softly to hers, needing to replace the kiss she was thinking about. "I remember every single one of our kisses, but the one that is making you hurt so bad is still hazy in my head. Anyway, I was so frustrated, I started yelling ' _He told me he was going to teach me a lesson because he saw me kissing a girl and I can't remember anything!_ ' I'm just now piecing so much together."

"So that's it, they haven't been looking for him?" Anger was rising in her voice. "They dropped it just like that?"

"Honestly? I don't know. I know that they found the knife and that there was no match on the one fingerprint that was left on it. I guess they've looked on what I gave them, but it wasn't much."

Brittany stomped her feet against the ground, and I knew that if she didn't need her feet for her career, she would be kicking something hard. She took her hands back and rubbed her temples with the heels of them, shaking her head as she did that. Talking about it made me feel angry with myself, like I should have tried harder to complete the puzzle, but it was useless to feel that way. I needed to move forward, I needed to do what I could in the here and now.

"He's out there, he's had no consequences and he's made so many people suffer." She spit. "And  _you_  have to go through it all over again, so the police can  _maybe_  find him. I hate violence, but I hate him more than I've ever hated anything, and all I want is five minutes of him in front of me so I could teach  _him_  a lesson."

"I know, baby." My voice was low and soothing as I rubbed my hands up and down her arms. She pulled me to her hard, squeezing me with everything she had in her. When the fight left her body and she fell slack, I used my arms to support her weight. "I'm stronger now, Britt. I can do this. I can accept the fact that I might be doing this all for nothing, that they may never find him, just because I know that there's a chance that they  _will._ "

"I'm going to be there when you talk to them." She said firmly, and I wouldn't have had it any other way.

* * *

Several hours later, after naps, baths and food for all three of us, Britt and I were on the living room floor with Annie. The snow was still coming down, and looking at the two people I loved more than anyone else in the world, I pretended we were encapsulated in a snow globe, hidden away from everything else. No matter what else was going on, the baby was an unending source of joy for us, and she kept our heavy emotions in check. For the moments in time where the three of us could be alone together, we allowed ourselves to be a normal family. Attempted murders, crushing guilt, police interrogations, it didn't exist for precious hours of time, and I was glad for that. Taking a break from coaxing Annie to roll over (a feat she'd yet to accomplish, but we got a lot of laughs and kicks every time we tried) Britt lay her head in my lap and looked up at me with those big blue eyes.

" _Oh, these times are hard. Yeah they're making us crazy, don't give up on me baby._ " I sang to her softly, combing my fingers through her hair and she smiled slowly, every emotion flickering in her eyes.

"Remember the first time you sang that to me?" She asked, playing with the fingers on my free hand.

"I'd never forget, in the bathtub at my house right after I took you on our first real date. You calmed me down after I'd freaked out about it. I was so afraid you were going to leave because I wasn't strong enough to be everything you deserved."

"You were trying so hard, I could never have left. We've always tried so hard to be better for each other. It's my turn now, I think."

"To be better?"

"Yeah. We both need to be at our strongest for everything that's about to happen, and I know I'm not. Until I can forgive myself, I'm not going to be at my best. Our couples therapy is great, Santana, but I think I need to find someone to talk to on my own too."

I ducked down to kiss her softly, silently letting her know that I agreed with her. As much as I'd fought my first visit to Dr. Collins, he'd helped me through so much, and Brittany deserved an opportunity for the same.

"I love you, and I love that we never give up on each other." She breathed and I drew a heart on her chest with my fingers.

Things had to get harder before they got easier, we'd realized that back on Halloween, but I couldn't help but think that somehow, in the end we were going to have to come out some kind of superhero strong. Maybe we were getting all of our suffering out of the way now, while Annie was still small enough that she didn't truly witness it. Thinking back to Brittany's hope for the next year, I sent yet another silent prayer that we were on the right road to a real happy ending, no matter the outcome when we spoke to the police.


	55. Full Intensity

I stood at the kitchen counter, my knuckles turning white from the intensity of my grip on the marble. It was just one of those days, one of those days where the intensity with which I craved a drink was threatening to take over me. It was the Monday after we'd visited the place that had changed everything, the day that I was going to speak to Detective Bricker at the Midtown North Precinct, the day that something  _big_  was being set in motion. I looked out the window, no more snow (it had stopped at some point during the night), just the brick of the building next to ours. I looked at the phone, no new messages from Brittany (it had only been twenty minutes since she last checked in from work), just the picture of Annie in her bear snowsuit that was the lock screen. I listened for any sound of the baby waking from her nap, no crying (she had only been sleeping for a half hour), just silence. There was just  _nothingness_  everywhere, nothing to focus on, nothing outside of my own head to hold on to, and I needed  _something_.

The past two nights had been difficult, I'd seen nothing but his face in my sleep, the face I was going to have to describe in six hours, I wasn't having blackout flashbacks, at least there was that, but his face was at the forefront of my thoughts, distracting me from everything else. I wanted, no,  _needed_  something that would block out the agony I was feeling, block out the sounds of Brittany trying to be strong and failing miserably, block out my growing inability to function normally. Drinking wasn't an option, I'd worked too hard, I had my  _daughter_  sleeping in the next room for God's sake, and I refused to let the bottle get the best of me. But it terrified me how easy it was to just walk to the liquor store on the next block, how  _easy_  it was to destroy everything I'd worked so hard to build within myself.

"Hello?" The voice on the other end of the phone called out, and I honestly hadn't even been conscious of my dialing. "Santana,  _querida_ , are you there?"

"I'm here.  _Lo siento_." I choked. "Are you busy?"

"Not at all,  _¿Estás bien?_ "

"No. No, I'm not okay."

The last time this unnatural pull had taken over my body, I'd been able to stop myself. I'd been able to remind myself what was important, Brittany and Annalise. This time, I was struggling with my priorities, my need for oblivion was more blinding, and I didn't think I was capable of helping myself. So I called the one person I knew who understood on a different level, the one person who'd been through it herself, Rosa.

"Do you want me to come over?" She asked, the concern rising in her voice.

"Can I come to you? I need to occupy myself with something, I can't just sit here anymore."

"You know my door is always open to you." She said soothingly. "You did the right thing calling me, get here safely and I'll be waiting."

I didn't trust myself to drive, not with the baby in the car, not with the wet mess that was still on the ground, not with the mess that was in my head. Annie didn't wake up as I bundled her up, strapped her into the carseat and carried her out to the curb, stopping every few seconds to inhale her sweet baby smell, kiss her gently, give myself something tangible to feel until I made it to Prospect Heights, to Rosa who would be able to help me. With the handle of the carseat hooked in the crook of my elbow, I hailed a cab and finally breathed when we were both buckled in safely. Closing my eyes, I leaned back against the headrest and tried to see a future that wasn't like this, tried to remember every happy memory of the past eleven months. It was helping, but it wasn't enough.

I'd sent Brittany a text message while we were on the Williamsburg Bridge, letting her know we were going to Rosa's. Had we not had a major disagreement the day before about the need for her to go to work, to remember that she was in the middle of a phenomenal opportunity that she would regret blowing once this was all over, I knew she would have been on her way home. But she didn't open up the argument again, instead she told me she'd get the car and pick us up there later. Of course I wanted Brittany with me, I  _always_  wanted her with me, but in this case, I wasn't even sure she would be able to help, and I was sticking to my belief that the rest of life had to go on despite the turmoil we were going through.

When we finally made it to Brooklyn, I gave the cab driver entirely too much money, but I couldn't think clearly enough to worry about how much change I needed, and in the scheme of things, an extra five or six dollars wasn't going to make all that much of a difference. Annie was stirring in her seat as I unbuckled her, and I traced my thumb over her features, silently promising her that I was going to be okay, that we were all going to be okay. That her entire life wouldn't consist of one or both of her mothers in a state of distress, that the song she'd heard Brittany and I sing to each other on a regular basis would be true again. I whispered the words to Annalise too;  _For you, there'll be no more crying_. She opened her eyes as looked at me with her tiny blue ones, and I would swear that she was telling me that I'd be held to that promise.

"Thank you," I said quietly, the minute Rosa opened the door.

"No thank you's needed, Santana. Come inside, get yourself and that sweet baby out of the cold."

Rosa didn't grab the baby from me like she usually did when I brought her to meetings with me (Annie was always the hit there, even if she did sleep most of the time) instead, she poured two cups of coffee and led me to the table, letting me keep my daughter close to me. With the baby on my lap, I looked at my friend expectantly, waiting for her to say some kind of magic words that would make the sharp intensity of my urges disappear. Instead, she was silent, waiting for me to be the first to speak.

"It's a bad day, probably the worst yet." I told her after several minutes. "I don't think I wanted a drink this bad even when I first stopped. It's been almost a  _year_. I shouldn't want it this bad. I'm so mad at myself today."

"Hey. What's the biggest rule in our group?" She asked, and I didn't answer because I knew where she was going. Rosa looked at me sternly over her glasses and I sighed.

"No judgement."

"Exactly. And that means from yourself too." She reached across the table and grabbed my hand to still my drumming fingers. "Is there a reason you feel this way today? Or just one of those unexplainable sensations?"

"I'm going to talk to the police later." I looked down at Annie and smoothed her soft hair that was sticking up every which way, trying to decide how much I wanted to say. It was  _still_  hard for me to express my feelings to anyone other than Britt, but I was trying. "Everything that is happening now is exactly what I'd been trying to avoid when I started drinking in the first place. And now it's all so much sharper without being clouded by tequila."

"I think, Santana, that you need to feel this in it's full intensity. I'm not saying it's going to be easy, I can't even imagine what you're going through just thinking about it, but it's going to be worth it. You spent years tuning yourself out, and you weren't able to find any kind of peace or closure. Instead, from what you've told me, you spiraled deeper into despair, and it's possible that you felt it in a worse way because of the alcohol. I didn't know you then, but the evolution I've seen in you throughout the time we've been friends proves to me just how capable you are. And doing this without a drink will be another affirmation of how strong you are." She paused and I kept my eyes locked with hers. "Even all these years later, I still find myself thriving on realizing my own strength. For your recovery, it is an important thing."

"I just feel like I'm wound so tight that I'm bound to snap any moment." I sighed.

"I don't believe you will. You could have easily broke your sobriety this morning. Brittany was at work, the baby was sleeping and there was no one around to see if you just had one drink. But you didn't. So no, I really don't think you're going to snap. I think that you don't give yourself enough credit for your strength."

My fingers curled reflexively around her hand, both in gratitude and in desire to draw more strength from her. I was glad I came to her, glad I had the opportunity to  _know_  this woman. Speaking to Rosa was different than speaking to Brittany, who loved me unconditionally and had an unwavering faith in me. It was different than talking to my friends from high school, who were well meaning but didn't quite understand exactly what I struggled through. Sitting with Rosa gave me exactly the hope I was looking for, gave me a glimpse into the future of someone like myself.

As Rosa replaced our coffee with chamomile tea (she said it would help me relax, that I needed to relax) and we went into her living room, I listened to her talk. She told me that she was going to Arizona for Christmas, that her daughter had just found out she was pregnant, that she had been having coffee dates with Benny, a widower from our group. I smiled inwardly, thinking of the day Brittany and I got married, when I brought her with me and saw the happiness on the faces of the others when they saw the elation on mine. That's how I felt listening to Rosa, that's what I'd needed more, even, than her words of encouragement. I needed to hear about the positive turns her life had taken, I needed to recognize that life was always going to be a struggle, but it wasn't going to be defined by my past, it wasn't going to be defined by the fact that sometimes the need to feed my addiction felt like it was going to overtake me. In that moment, the pull was still there, for sure, but I was slightly more in control of myself.

For the remainder of the morning and into the afternoon, Annie and I stayed with Rosa. The baby smiled and laughed in Rosa's arms, tugging at her necklace and shrieking with joy (Brittany always said she was her Mamí's girl with her love for bling). Rosa caught my eye when she saw me watching, looking at the medal that adorned her neck, the same one she always wore. St. Jude, the patron of lost causes, the same Saint I'd heard my mother begging in her whispered prayers in the hospital. I still didn't necessarily believe in calling upon a long dead person for a miracle, but I understood Rosa's need, understood my mother's. I knew my friend would send prayers to him for me, prayers that this would end in a way that wasn't painful, prayers that I'd never be a lost cause. and when Brittany arrived to pick us up, I found myself with my arms tight around Rosa in gratitude for that.

* * *

After we'd dropped Annie off with Finn, the car was silent as we drove up to 54th Street. There was a quiet resolve in Brittany, one that hadn't been there when she left for work hours earlier. She was calm, held together and ready to act as the strong one. That's what was impossible about all of this, that we'd always taken turns as the stronger half, and with both of us falling apart, there was no one there to catch either. But Brittany knew that as much as she was hurting, as much as she wanted to curl up in our bed and never come out, at that very moment, I was feeling the same, amplified infinity. Once the day was over, we would find her a therapist, she would work on what was happening in her head. But in that moment she sat in the driver's seat of the car, hand wrapped tight around mine, ready to act exclusively as my safety net.

"Britt." I said quietly, my eyes meeting her soft blue ones as she was stopped at a light on 7th Avenue. "You can't let go of me in there, you can't let me slip away from you."

"I won't, no matter where you go in your mind, I'll always bring you back." She pulled our clasped hands to her heart. " _This_  is stronger than anything else."

"I know, that's what I'm trying to hold on to."

"Even if you can't, I'll be holding from the other end."

Once we parked the car and made our way towards the precinct, I could feel my heart rate skyrocket. I tried to focus on the hearts Brittany was drawing with her thumb on the top of my hand, tried to focus on keeping my breathing steady, but it was becoming increasingly difficult with every step. When we reached the entranceway, Brittany pulled me to her and enveloped me in a fierce hug. I hugged her back just as hard, feeling her breathing in my ear, the warmth of her body even through our winter clothes. She was my reality, and I felt the magnetic pull shifting back to the direction it should, to Brittany, not to tequila.

"We need to go in now." I said into Brittany's neck. "We need to cross the threshold before I change my mind."

With our fingers still laced together, I took a deep breath as we entered the police station. The musty smell assaulted my senses, and I focused on keeping my knees steady. I'd proven to myself two days earlier that places couldn't hurt me, and I kept reminding myself that memories couldn't either. Brittany spoke softly to the officer at the desk, informing her who we were, while I looked around, taking in my surroundings, assuring myself that I was safe.

"Honey." Britt stroked my hair, she rarely called me that, only when she knew I needed some extra love. "Detective Bricker is waiting for us in the conference room."

"Okay, I'm ready."

Brittany's arm was around my waist, steadying me as we walked down the long corridor. As we walked together, I couldn't help but feel a slight twinge of  _something_  I couldn't put my finger on. Pride, maybe? The man I was about to describe, the one who I'd always thought of as the people who ruined my life  _hadn't_ , actually. I was supposed to die that night, and I  _didn't_. Really, it was some kind of miracle, something I should be much more grateful for, and that thought made what I was about to do seem a little less impossible. When we reached the room, quick pleasantries were exchanged with the tan, curly haired detective before immediately jumping in to what we'd come for.

"Let me start by telling you the information we have." Detective Bricker pulled out a folder, and I knew there were pictures of me inside, pictures if what I looked like when I was brought to the hospital.

"I don't want to...I can't look at the pictures." I gasped, forcing my brain to keep itself from allowing me to bury my head in Brittany's neck. Britt rubbed my thigh under the table, keeping me calm.

"That's not necessary, I just want to give you some information about the case, let you understand what we've done in the past  _four years_." I filled in the gaps of what he was saying in my head,  _in the past four years that you showed absolutely no interest in helping us._  "The fingerprint that we found on the knife he used was only partial, and typically, it's unlikely we'd find a match even if the same criminal was already in police custody. There was no DNA found anywhere on you, there was no one who'd come forward as seeing anything happen on the street that night, basically, there are a lot of dead ends."

"You can do this." Britt whispered to me and I nodded.

"Detective Bricker, my head was really messed up after I was attacked, I couldn't even make out the words to tell you what happened that night. But I've come to terms with a lot of things, and I'm ready to tell you everything. If it even makes a difference now..."

"Of course it makes a difference." The officer raised his voice, and I wasn't sure if he was angry with me for taking so long, or glad that he might finally have something else to go on with this case. "There's no statute of limitations on attempted murder, Mrs. Lopez-Pierce. Anything that you can tell me that might help us to find him makes a  _huge_  difference."

I moved closer to Brittany while the detective shuffled about the room, readying everything he needed before listening to my statement. There was no turning back now, I was really doing this, I was really going to close my eyes, picture his face and try to hold myself together.  _You can do this, Santana_. It was my words, it was Brittany's words, it was the truth. When Detective Bricker was seated again, he looked at me expectantly and I exhaled sharply before I began.

"Okay. I'm just going to start by saying that he knew me from Private Eyes. I knew I recognized him when he grabbed me, but I wasn't sure from where. Then he told me, he told me that I was a tease, that if he wanted to  _rape_  me, he could. But he didn't, I don't know, I guess he was disgusted by the fact that I'm a lesbian, because that's when he said he was going to teach me a lesson." I choked out, and then continued the story, telling every detail I could remember. The way he grabbed me, how I spit in his face, how I could feel the rage in the brute force with which he attacked me. When I finished, I had my face in my hands and Brittany was slowly rubbing her knuckles up and down my back.

"You're okay, San. You're okay."

"Can I get you some water?" Bricker asked as he shut off the recorder.

"No. I need to keep going. You need to know what he looks like. I can do this."

"Maybe you should take a few minutes..." Brittany said softly and I shook my head.

It wasn't all that different from what I'd seen on the countless cop shows that Finn and Blaine always watched. I closed my eyes, knowing that I needed to really see his face, really feel everything about him so I'd be able to get it just right. Even with my eyes locked shut, I could hear Bricker tapping at the keys on the computer. The computer that would create an incarnation of my deepest, darkest, fear, and I steadied my breathing and allowed Brittany to pull my hand up so it was resting over her heart.

"It's hard for me to judge height, since most people are taller than me, but I think he had to be around six foot. He had blue eyes, not blue, blue, but gray blue. They were so cold it would have scared me even if he didn't have a knife to my throat. He had this strong, defined jaw line, angled cheek bones and a Chase Crawford kind of haircut." My breathing was ragged, I could literally feel him staring at me from inside of my head. I could feel myself slipping, and I was starting to panic. My free hand grabbed Brittany's, and I squeezed it hard, running my thumb over the bones, feeling something tangible.

I continued, and then opened my eyes to see what was on the computer screen. It wasn't quite him, but it was close, and the fear became too much for me. I had to get out of that room, had to run as fast as I could away from the face that was staring back at me. As I pushed myself away from the table, Brittany grabbed me in another strong embrace, and I let the sobs come out of my body against her chest. I could hear her talking to the detective, hear him telling her that it was valuable information, but mostly I just heard the racing of my own heart.

"Santana." She pressed her lips to my temple and I lifted my head to look in her eyes. "He can't hurt you now, I promise."

"I know. I know he can't." My voice was still thick with tears. "It's just seeing his face, knowing that he's out there somewhere is so terrifying."

"You're so brave, baby, so, so brave. What you just did would have been impossible for you not that long ago, and you made it happen all on your own. I love you, so much."

"I love you too, Britt. I think...I think I need to look again." I thought about what Rosa had said, about feeling everything in it's full intensity so I could heal.

"Are you sure? Don't push yourself too far."

"I have to. I have to face it. But please, hold me."

"I'm never letting you go."

I turned in her arms and she wrapped then securely around my waist, pressing her chest against me. I breathed in her scent, felt her warmth seeping into me as I looked first at Detective Bricker and then back to the screen. It was terrifying (and honestly, a little bit amazing) how even with the subtle differences in his face, it was still so fundamentally  _him_ , so fundamentally the man I desperately wanted the police to find, the man I desperately wanted so many answers from. My eyes locked on computer generated ones, and I leaned back further into Brittany while I continually reminded myself that it was just a picture.

"What now?" I asked, twisting the rings on my left hand nervously.

"We'll generate a profile with this picture, with the information you've given us. Now that I know that he'd been at Private Eyes, we'll see what kind of records they've kept, see if they have an security footage. There's a good chance we will never find him, ladies, and I'm sorry for that. But now that we have all of this to go on, there's a much better chance than we had two hours ago."

"Thank you." Brittany said for both of us, as I felt emotional exhaustion creeping up.

"No, thank  _you_." He directed that at me. "A guy capable of this never deserved a chance to stay on the streets, so I'll be doing everything in my power to find him and bring justice for what was done to you."

We said our goodbyes, and Brittany kept a protective hold on me as we walked back to the car. It was out there now, the full truth of what had happened, his face, and the possibility of ending this all for good. It wasn't cause for celebration, not yet, maybe not ever, but it was still a huge milestone, a huge step towards being okay. I leaned my head on my wife's shoulder, knowing that she'd made me capable of taking these steps. And even more so, knowing that after a day filled with terrible cravings and confronting fears, all I wanted to do was lay in bed with the two people I loved the most, soaking up all the good within them.

 


	56. Between the Raindrops

Life has to go on, it's what I'd said to Brittany about the need for her to go to work on the day we went to the precinct, what she'd said back to me two days later at her first therapy session, the session she wasn't yet ready to talk about. It was the truth, that was for sure, but it was easier said than done. It didn't come as a surprise to me that the intense craving for a drink that I'd felt didn't immediately fade. Instead, in perhaps the greatest irony, I felt like I was trapped in some kind of perpetual hangover. For entirely too long, I felt lethargic, irritable and a little sick to my stomach. I guess it didn't help that on top of the sharp, sudden twinges that gripped me, I was also feeling emotionally conflicted by everything that had happened. On one hand, I felt free. So much of what had been trapped inside me for over four years had been handed off to someone who could actually put it to use, there was nothing more that I could do with that knowledge. On the other, I was unsettled. Seeing that face again, even in a computer composite, reminded me that he was still out there, that in some infinitesimal way, he was a threat. It was terrifying and I was trying to find ways to occupy my mind to keep it from going there.

I was eternally grateful for the holidays, grateful that mine and Brittany's desire to create a ridiculous, over-the-top first Christmas for Annalise- one that would put Buddy the Elf to shame- gave me something to busy myself with. While Britt put in more hours than she'd ever expected in her last days before the night that could set the direction of her career, I was about two seconds away from being drafted for Santa's team at the North Pole. I shopped online, planned a menu (we were determined, after Thanksgiving to show our moms that we  _were_ capable of putting together a holiday meal), booked a Santa brunch, found the best place to buy a tree, and that was just the start. Okay, so  _maybe_  my obsessive tendencies were taking over, but I was okay with that, better to obsess over which brand of ham to buy than what was going to happen in the coming months. Anyway, for me, these preparations had become about so much more than just one Christmas, they were about creating our first traditions as a family, about giving Annie her first glimpses of magic, and about bringing it back into mine and Brittany's lives.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" Brittany called out as the door slammed shut behind her. Before she'd even reached the nursery where I was sitting with the baby, she'd stripped out of her dance clothes. "Just give me fifteen minutes and we can go!"

"Hey, relax." I stood up and pulled her to me for a quick kiss, raking my eyes over her naked body and smiling. She'd been so busy that we hadn't had sex in three days, I didn't feel bad in the slightest for my leering. "We have over an hour until we need to be in midtown. And anyway, we swore that with everything else, we weren't going to let the things that are supposed to be  _fun_  add more stress."

"Says the woman who sent me seventeen pictures of Christmas lights yesterday before deciding which were the sparkliest." She grinned and tugged on my ponytail.

"I did not say sparkliest!" I put my hands on my hips and huffed.

"Oh, I'm sorry, twinkliest."

Before I could respond, she ran into the bathroom and shut the door. I let the smile that had been threatening to creep out appear once I heard the shower running. This was it, the big day, and I couldn't be more excited for Brittany. She'd just come back from the final run through of the performance, our parents and Lizzie had flown in late the night before and we were more than ready to kick off eight days of uninterrupted joy. Wanting me to pay attention to her, Annie grabbed at my cheeks with her little hands and I blew on her hair, causing her to erupt into a fit of giggles which I followed with my own soon after.

"Everyone's having fun without me?" Britt fake pouted as she walked back into the room in her towel, hair dripping wet.

"Sorry, do you want me to blow on you too, babe?"

"Actually, I prefer licking to blowing." She said lowly and my jaw dropped.

"You can say  _that_  in front of the baby, but I almost had to sleep on the couch for saying F-U-C-K too many times last week?"

"What? There was absolutely nothing inappropriate about what I just said." She winked, and turned to walk away. Looking back over her shoulder, she grinned at me. "Mind out of the gutter, Lopez."

"It's Lopez- _Pierce_." I whined and Britt clicked her tongue.

"Oh, I know what your name is. But that filthy mind of yours, all Lopez."

"Lies, lies, I tell you!" I said to the baby and she started up her giggles again. Britt turned back around, kissed the baby and leaned in so her lips were level with my right ear.

"So you know." She whispered, stopping to nip my earlobe. "If there's licking involved, you can say  _fuck_  all you want."

Twenty minutes (and twice as many comments dripping with sexual innuendo) later, Brittany was ready and had Annie snuggled against her as we walked over to the N train. Even under our coats, it was obvious that we were becoming one of  _those_ families, the type I would have expected Finn and Rachel to become, probably not Britt and I. We were completely coordinated, like we belonged in the Holiday Wishbook, Brittany in a green dress, me in a red one, Annie in red with a green sash (she looked just like her Mama, so we chose a dress in the same color as mine, creating a matched set). It was so cheesy and yet even  _I_  thought we were completely adorable, whatever.

Our parents and Lizzie looked like they were ready to pounce on us when we finally found them sitting at a corner table at The Plaza (yes, we really brought our six month old to have tea with  _Kris Kringle_ , the much fancier way of saying  _Santa_ , at The Plaza Hotel, and I thought Brittany's idea was pretty genius). Mamí snatched Annie out of Brittany's arms before anyone else had a chance to react and I braced myself for the barrage of hugs from the Pierces and, surprisingly, my father.

"It's so good to see you all!" Brittany squealed, squeezing Lizzie tightly.

"Britt, you just saw us three weeks ago." Her sister rolled her eyes, but laughed when I caught her hugging Brittany tighter.

"Are you all ready for tonight, honey?" Susan asked, smoothing Brittany's dress where it had bunched up from the baby carrier.

"I think so. I'm super nervous, but I'm also really, really excited and so happy that all of you came here for this."

"Like we'd miss it." Stephen scoffed. "I've got the video camera all charged and ready."

"Dad." Britt groaned, even though she knew she was just as much of a stickler for continuity with the damn camera as her father (okay, I was too, I couldn't even make fun). "I'm not six anymore, don't you think it's a little weird to make home videos of your fully grown daughter dancing? And besides, it's not like this is all about me, I'm only dancing one number, and only because Rick insisted."

"You put this all together in seven weeks, babe. You  _created_  everyone else's dances." I kissed her lightly, letting her see all the pride in my eyes. "This is  _all_ you, all of your awesome talent."

"And when you're famous and I'm broke because I decided being an  _English_  major was a great idea, I'll steal the tapes from Dad and sell them to pay my rent." Lizzie cut in.

"Nice, Liz." I laughed, pushing her shoulder as she shrugged. "You could always come sleep on our couch if you're so broke you have to pimp out your sister's memorabilia."

"Just don't open the bedroom door without knocking."  _And_  there Britt went again, her mind was clearly preoccupied with sex, and I'd be sure to take advantage of that once the day was over,  _finally._

The seven of us sat around beautifully done up table, eating scones and drinking tea from insanely fancy china. Annalise was being passed between her grandparents and her aunt while Brittany and I took it in, once again grateful to have our family around us. The persistent noise was something else that helped quiet our racing minds and I pulled my wife closer to me, savoring the temporary peace. When we were called for our turn to see Santa, Britt was the first to jump up, still obviously as entranced by him as she'd always been. Taking the baby from Susan, I followed close behind, laughing as Brittany threw her arms around the surprised older man.

"Hey Britt, want to let someone else have a turn?" I grinned, nodding down at Annie.

"All three of us first!" She demanded and gestured towards the very real looking Santa's other knee. He chuckled and I sat down there, lacing my free hand with Brittany's.

"And what do you ladies want for Christmas?" The man asked, as Brittany caught my eye.

"Nothing." We said in unison, looking at each other and than the baby. It was the truth, despite everything else, we really did have all we wanted.

"We're good." Britt added and I tapped my pointer finger against the back of her hand, agreeing, as the grumpy looking teenager dressed as an elf snapped our picture.

* * *

After brunch was over, Brittany went immediately back to the studio and I'd kissed her in the street, one last  _break a leg_. Lizzie came back to the apartment with me, while our parents went to their hotel to get ready for the big night. Hours later, I was dressed in yet another red dress (I couldn't resist, since every time I wore red I got to hear how  _extra_  hot I was) standing outside the performance hall waiting for our parents, our friends, the people who meant so much to the two of us and who wouldn't miss this for the world. Annie was in my arms (Brittany would have it no other way than for our daughter to be there, but Papí promised to take her outside if she got upset- I wouldn't miss a minute of this night!) and Lizzie was bouncing up and down, so excited for her big sister.

"I always knew she'd have a thousand big nights like this." I told Liz.

"Brittany could have two left feet, or one left foot and no right one and you would have still thought she was the greatest dancer in the world." Lizzie laughed. "But I agree, she so deserves this."

"It's about damn time someone recognized how incredible she is."

When we went inside, I sat in the front row with the Pierces and my parents while Finchel, the gays, Quinn and her husband (who I still hadn't actually had a real conversation with, despite the fact that we were becoming increasingly involved in social situations together) sat behind us. Quinn squeezed my shoulder (sometimes she was really such an old lady, I'd only ever seen moms do that) silently saying  _you always knew, and you've slapped me more than once for thinking otherwise, I'm glad you were right_. When the lights dimmed and the first group of dancers took the stage, I was riveted, everyone was, and even Annie couldn't take her eyes off the work that was so fundamentally  _Brittany_.

I clapped when appropriate, but mostly because I was following the cues of the people around me. In my own head, I was so completely consumed with pride and adoration for my wife, my incredibly talented, incredibly amazing wife who had made all of this happen. I was so full with emotion that at an hour and a half into the show I almost didn't recognize when Brittany herself took the stage. She was in a gauzy, shimmery dress the exact same color of her eyes, the costume she wouldn't let me see for the  _number_  she wouldn't let me see, and as the music started, I thought of something Brittany had once asked;  _Is this what having a stroke feels like?_  My whole body responded in ways I didn't know it was capable of and I held Annie close to me so I wouldn't start crying from all of the insane feelings that were rushing through me.

_Look around_

_There's no one but you and me_

_Right here and now_

_The way it was meant to be_

_There's a smile on my face_

_Knowing that together everything that's in our way_

_We're better than alright_

This wasn't her usual style of dance, in any means, this wasn't even her  _dancing_ , this was her  _communicating_  all the emotions in her body. This was  _her_  use of music to say what words couldn't say and I felt the love, and the sense of innate understanding fall out of my body in the tears that were landing on our daughters head. It was for me, just like every song I ever wrote was for  _her_ , every dance she danced was for  _me_ , no one could understand it the way that I did.

_Walking between the raindrops_

_Riding the aftershock beside you_

_Off into the sunset_

_Living like there's nothing left to lose_

_Chasing after gold mines_

_Crossing the fine lines we knew_

_Hold on and take a breath_

_I'll be here every step_

_Walking between the raindrops with you_

Brittany's eyes were closed, she didn't need to see the stage to know exactly where she needed to be next. Her body felt it, it always had. I could dance, I wasn't denying that, but I could never do  _this_ , never even dream of having my body connect with the music in the way her's did. Because my heart could always read hers, I felt what she was trying to say with this, that there could be sadness, there could be destruction, and we would always, always move through it together.  _Between the raindrops,_ we'd make our own happiness. Eight years earlier, I'd gone absolutely psychotic on Finn and Rachel for kissing on stage and ruining our chance at winning Nationals. Now, if I was on stage with Britt, I'd have stopped her and done exactly the same thing. I understood it completely at that point, being so taken, even in the middle of a performance that you couldn't control your own actions. I'd always been affected by music, I'd always used it to communicate, but never had I felt someone else communicate with it  _to me_ as completely as I did in that moment.

_Take me now_

_The world's such a crazy place_

_When the walls come down_

_You'll know I'm here to stay_

_There's nothing I would change_

This song, the fluid motions of Brittany's body (the motions I knew the names of, somewhere in my head, but I didn't even care to process the technics of her performance) all of it was everything we'd both been trying and struggling to say to each other. When Brittany's eyes opened, they found mine, because they  _always_  found mine, and I nodded to her, not even trying to hide the fact that I was openly weeping. We connected, separated by twenty-five feet, but she never missed a step as our eyes stayed locked. She was absolutely amazing, her whole show had been amazing and this just topped it all.

_Hold on and take a breath_

_I'll be here every step_

_Walking between the raindrops with you_

_Between the raindrops with you_

_Between the raindrops with you_

When the music began to fade, she gave me one last look before unlocking her eyes from mine and turning to walk off the stage. Desperately, I wanted to jump out of my seat and run to see Brittany, to celebrate on so many different levels. But I was a performer, I knew the rules, so I pressed kisses all over Annie's face instead, silently telling her how absolutely amazing her Mama was. Before I completely lost my ability to sit still, Rick, Brittany's boss, appeared on stage and called all of the dancers and finally, Britt out to take a bow. It's a good thing that we had all been going to performances for years, because I know I wasn't the only one who wished I could yell and scream, wolf-whistle and make a gigantic scene. But we were model audience members, and it wasn't until we were outside of the dressing room that I went crazy.

"Brittany!" I screamed as she jumped into my arms, wrapping her legs around my waist as she laughed, cried and shrieked all at the same time. Before saying anything else, I kissed her hard, my own emotions mixing with hers. "Amazing, you were absolutely amazing. I love you, God, I love you so much."

"Rick offered me the job permanently!" She shouted and there was more kissing, crying and laughing.

"Of course he did. He'd be a moron not to. I'm so fucking  _proud_  of you."

"Thank you!" She didn't even reprimand me for that, we just clung to each other, ridiculous amounts of much needed happiness washing over us. We forgot everyone else was in the room until Susan, who was holding the baby, cleared her throat.

"I think someone else wants to congratulate her Mama." Susan said, holding out Annie.

That's when it happened, in a moment when I didn't think it was possible for there to be any more joy, Brittany let go of me and held out her arms for the baby. Looking between the two of us, Annie gave us her big gummy smile and let out a string of syllables;  _ma, ma, ma, ma_  and I just about lost it.  _Holy. Shit._ No one even dared to speak after that, Brittany and I just stood there, mouths agape with the baby between us. Without a doubt, our tiny little daughter knew exactly what she had said.

"That's right, baby girl." Brittany finally said, pride literally coming off of her in waves. "We're your moms."

"Oh,  _mija_." I wasn't even capable of anything else.

It took us a few minutes, but we managed to recover. Well, Brittany did. She let everyone shower her with hugs, praise, congratulations while I just held our daughter and stared at her like she'd just spun straw into gold. She thrived on our happiness, she had even before she was born, and I was in awe of every single thing that had happened in the three hours prior to that very moment.

* * *

Everyone had offered to take Brittany out to celebrate, but one shared glance between the two of us decided that it was  _not_  the way we were going to spend our night. We bid our families, our friends, and the other dancers goodnight before getting a cab home. Annie fell asleep in her carseat and while Brittany went to shower, I carefully changed her into footed pajamas. Once I'd settled her into her crib (yes, we'd finally made the big step) I flicked on the video monitor and stripped down to my bra and panties before settling myself on our bed.

"Someone didn't waste any time." Brittany smirked as she stood in the bedroom doorway in just her towel.

"Days were wasted, I didn't think it was really fair to let any more time pass." I returned her smirk and crooked my finger at her.

Brittany dropped her towel and climbed up onto the bed, immediately straddling me. I made the first move to connect our lips and Britt pushed me down so I was underneath her. For a long time, we did nothing more than just kiss, filling up on the taste of each other. When my whole body started to feel like it was on fire, I slowly moved my kisses up towards Brittany's ear, stopping to suck on her pulse point.

"I think I owe you something from this morning." I rasped, finding it difficult to keep my breathing steady.

Brittany placed a kiss in the hollow of my throat before pulling me on top of her as she rolled onto her back. I unhooked and removed my own bra, wanting to feel as much of my skin touching her's as possible, before kissing my way down her body. When I'd finally settled myself between her legs, I looked up at her, watching my wife watch me and it made me feel even warmer inside. I moved slowly and deliberately, teasing her to prolong her ecstasy. It wasn't until her fingers were wound tightly through my hair, until she was  _pleading_  for release that I finally let her come undone. As her eyes rolled back in her head and her hands gripped tighter and then released my hair, I watched her, heart pounding.

"I  _fucking_  love you." She breathed out, and pulled me back up so our foreheads were pressed together.

"You're beautiful." I tangled my own fingers through her hair, closing every gap of personal space between us. More than I wanted my own release, I wanted to have every inch of our bodies touching. "That dance..."

"I'm not ready yet, to talk with words." Her breathing was still ragged. "I want to say so much to you, but I don't want to say the wrong thing. I don't want you to think I'm taking something that's yours with my feelings. But that's what I feel, everything you saw."

"Never, Brittany. Never ever. When you're ready, when you feel right with your emotions, we will talk. Until then, thanks for letting me understand in another way."

* * *

 


	57. Traditions

Sometime in the middle of the night before Christmas Eve, the snow started up again. Light was just beginning to peak through the sky, and I had been wide awake long before our tiny human alarm clock sounded. For the first time in a long time, my sleeplessness had been caused more by excitement than anxiety, and I smiled to myself at the thought of that. The days leading up to that point had been packed with so much holiday preparation that I was pretty sure Brittany was going to burst. We'd been up late the night before, wrapping the gigantic pile of gifts (most of which, the ones for Annie, were hidden in the closet- even if she was too young to understand, we were most definitely not skipping Santa's visit!) and Brittany was passed out beside me, one leg draped over mine and her hand resting on my stomach. Even in the low early morning light, I could see the hint of a smile still on her face, and I had to really control myself to keep from planting a kiss on her lips.

When I heard Annie start to babble over the monitor, I gently slipped away from Britt and pulled my hair up before going into the baby's room. It was probably unfair to all of the other parents in the world that we were lucky enough to have a child who woke up so unbelievably happy each day. Then again, there was only one baby who was a genetic extension of Brittany, and  _she_  certainly woke up happier than any person I'd ever seen. I leaned over the crib for a minute, just watching as Annalise grabbed at her feet and giggled. She was dressed in candy cane striped pajamas (one of the _seven_ pairs of holiday pajamas we'd bought for her, since it really was  _impossible_ to decide on just one) and I reached down to pull her up, so glad that  _someone_ was awake to share in my excitement.

_"Buenos dias, mi amor."_ I kissed her little nose and she pressed her hand against my chest. "You don't even know what you're in for today, little one. If you think everyone acts crazy on a regular day, you should see them on Christmas. And if the stack of presents that have piled up from  _everyone_  Mama and I ever knew back in Ohio are any indication of what's to come, you'll be opening gifts until your birthday. You're so very lucky,  _mija_ , we are  _all_  so lucky that we have people who care so much about us."

Annie rested her cheek against my chest and I kissed her again, this time on the top of her head. It was weird, once again, how much a year had changed things, how on Christmas Eve a year earlier, I hadn't gone to Rachel's Brunch Extravaganza ( _extravaganza_  was another word, like  _soirée_ , that I was still fruitlessly trying to get her to drop the use of), how Brittany was back in Ohio, not even knowing yet that Annie existed, neither of us knowing that in such a short time, we'd all be together as a family. Last Christmas had probably been the worst in my life, having come just two weeks after the fight I'd had with Rachel about not going to Sam's funeral, about my drinking. I was never one of those  _pretend everything is okay with your family for the sake of the holidays, even when it's so obviously not_  type of people, so I ignored the fact that she'd text messaged me, ignored the fact that Finn had called me and I sat on a bench in Rockefeller Center, scoffing at all the shiny happy people. But this year, I was already mildly successful at  _being_ one of those shiny happy people.

"Let's go lay down with Mama." I told Annie, carrying her back into the bedroom where Brittany was quite obviously pretending to be asleep. "Oh well, I guess she's still asleep. Want to know what I got her for Christmas?"

"No!" Brittany shouted, sitting bolt upright in bed. "I'm up, I'm up, don't ruin the surprise!"

"Britt, you're worse at faking sleep than  _me_." I laughed, passing Annie to her and climbing back into bed with them.

"Well, I was too busy thinking about how sweet you sounded talking to the baby to really try." She leaned over to kiss me before she started to nurse.

"Shush." I scolded at her calling me sweet, but smiled before the word had even left my lips. It wasn't even worth it to try and fight it anymore. The formerly badass, Head Bitch In Charge,  _don't touch me or I will slash you with my vicious words_ Santana had completely morphed into sweet, sentimental,  _I turn into cotton candy if I just so much as look at my wife or daughter_ , and the worst (or best?) part was, I hardly even cared.

"What are you thinking about?" Britt asked, noticing that I'd (once again) disappeared into my mind.

"Just that I don't hate so much that people think I'm sweet anymore." I said, and she looked like she was positively beaming. "And that I'm so glad our families came, so glad we are going to Rachel's pre-fight-to-Lima-brunch, even so glad that our weirdo Glee club friends have met Annie once and yet still wanted to recognize her first Christmas and sent all these gifts.  _Even_  if it's pushing us another step closer to having to move out on the street just so there is enough room in this apartment for the baby's  _stuff._ "

"You're one to talk, you know." Britt grinned, and her eyes acknowledged the rest of what I'd said. "You know, when I pictured us with kids, I never thought  _I'd_  be the one who had to rein  _you_ in."

"Look at her, babe. She's just so perfect, I want to give her everything she could ever possibly want."

"And I'm sure she'll have all that and more."

* * *

Shocking as it sounds, I was the first one to finally get out of bed. As much as I loved cuddling with my girls, I was also really excited (which I will deny, accepting of my sweetness or not) to get to Finn and Rachel's. Our families had been invited as well, but they'd politely declined, letting us have a few hours with our friends after nearly a week of uninterrupted Lopez and Pierce family time. So we got dressed, sticking to our sickeningly sweet holiday color scheme, the three of us in skinny jeans (seriously, baby jeans, probably the cutest thing ever) and our respective color sweaters, before packing the gifts in the car and heading to Brooklyn.

This was another one of the many strange traditions Rachel and Kurt had started, way back when we lived in our crappy Bushwick loft. We'd all do brunch together (with a strict no gift rule, that I was totally breaking with the loophole that they weren't from Britt and I, they were from  _Annie_ ) before the four of them would fly to Lima for the Hudson-Hummel Christmas festivities, and I'd do whatever seemed to strike my fancy that year. It was actually something that I wouldn't deny that I'd truly missed going to, truly missed singing cheesy carols and eating Kurt's eggs Benedict, but mostly missed that feeling of  _home_  here in New York. Now my home  _was_  here, with Brittany and the baby, and I was glad that there was already a tradition in place that I could bring them into.

" _Feliz navidad_ , ladies!" Rachel cried out as she opened the door (dressed in red and green striped tights that I'm  _sure_  Kurt tried to talk her out of).

"Every year, Berry, every single year I have to tell you that I find that incredibly racist."

"Oh, shut up, Santana!" Kurt yelled from inside the apartment. "You so don't."

"Merry Christmas, everyone." Britt called out, stopping Kurt and I from going at it. She passed Annie over to Rachel before she could attempt to pry her out of Brittany's arms (someone was  _always_ trying to pry the baby out of one of our arms). "Annie comes bearing gifts."

"Didn't break the rules." I smirked and Finn took the stack from me as we settled into the living room.

"Oh trust me, no one will complain about rule breaking. Kurt and Rachel are just about bouncing with excitement over the gifts we all got for the baby." Finn laughed while giving me a one-armed hug.

I glanced over at the Christmas tree (because despite Rachel's insistence upon sticking with Jewish traditions when she had kids, she really was over the top obsessed with Christmas) and there were enough gifts for all the babies that everyone we know would ever have. It was awesome, honestly, and Finn caught a glimpse of my misty eyes before I blinked it away. Once Brittany and I settled in and Finn stole Annie away from Rachel, I followed my freakishly short friend into the kitchen to help bring some of the food out. Before I could say anything, she threw her arms around me in a death grip and I stood there, stunned by the fact that she was hugging me like that.

"Um. Rach, why are you hugging me like you just heard that I'm being sent off to war?"

"I just was thinking, and I hope you know that I love you." She was just about crying, and I looked around, wishing someone else would come in and save me from the weird awkward moment.

"Are you drunk?"

"Why would I be  _drunk_?" She pulled away, seriously offended by that. "I'm just trying to have a normal conversation with you. I know you hate talking about feelings, but I don't think I ever apologized to you. You're my best friend, and I should have been more understanding."

"Are you talking about last year? I was thinking about it today too, but not in a bad way. Berry, it's water under the bridge. Do you think I'd even be talking to you if I was still pissed about it? Listen, I was a really shitty person to be around, and what happened to me isn't an excuse for treating you like crap for- well, I'd say three years, but it was more like forever. You tried, you couldn't get through to me, and you wanted me to get help. I get it. Yeah, trying to push the Brittany thing was kind of an asshole move at the time, but it worked out in the end, right?"

"Yeah..." Rachel trailed off, squinting her eyes at me as I pulled her back into a hug.

"Stop being a weirdo, it's Christmas. Last year sucked, but it's over. You have a terrible way of going about things, but lucky for everyone who knows you, you're usually successful. "Now can we go eat and see about what I'm sure is a small toy store currently living under your tree?"

Before she could get any more sappy on me, I grabbed a basket of muffins and turned to walk back into the other room. It was true, what I'd said to her. I was pissed at her when it was all going on, for sure, but I'd never held a grudge about it. It's not like I was the best myself at trying to help people (when she thought she was pregnant, I thought the smartest way to help was to list movies about having babies to get her to confess,  _seriously_?) and I knew she was well meaning. And maybe the fact that it was from something she orchestrated that caused Brittany and I to get back together didn't hurt either. She was a good friend, I'd said that more than I usually cared to of late, but it was true, and the unnecessary apology proved it even further.

After everyone had stuffed themselves, I was the first to make a move towards Annie giving her aunt and uncles their gifts. This was the first time I'd ever been thoughtful in gift buying for anyone but Britt, and I couldn't wait to see their reactions. I took Annie away from Blaine (seriously, I think she only liked him because of his bow ties- Christmas lights, this time, and I knew for sure that he also owned candy canes, elf shoes and reindeer) and settled her on my lap while Brittany picked up our stack of gifts and passed them out.

"Rachel, the small one is for you and Finn." I told her and she unwrapped the package, pulling out a pewter footprint ornament. It was actually Annie's, I'd cast her foot in plaster (so much harder than it sounds!) and sent it away to make ornaments for us, her three sets of grandparents, and her godparents.

"Whoa. Annie, thanks." Finn squeezed her actual foot and she laughed at him. "This is great, guys."

"It really is." Rachel chimed in, looking at me appreciatively and then turning to Finn. "We'll have to remember to do this when we have ours."

"And we all know who we'll have to thank now that these two are finally settling down." Blaine laughed. "I should get Santana on Kurt."

"I never would have thought it would be  _Kurt and Rachel_  that needed convincing." Brittany smiled, then looked at me, recalling our conversation from the morning. "But I guess  _none_  of this really turned out how we'd expected, and that's a pretty cool thing."

Our friends opened the rest of their gifts as we sat back and watched. Rachel squealed (of course) over the original  _Memories_ platinum record plaque (it totally pays sometimes to work for a record company) and she grabbed Annie from Britt to hug her and sing her own version of Barbra's hit song. Kurt and Blaine went crazy over the chef's table package I'd managed to get them at Daniel (they were obsessed with that restaurant, seriously) and blew kisses towards the baby who was still being spun around by her godmother. Finn had been the hardest to find something for, both because he never really  _wanted_  anything, and because I'd wanted his gift to be even more special. When he unwrapped the Deen Castronovo drumsticks (again, record company,  _awesome_ ) I knew it was the right gift, and he gave me his goofy shy grin and he put his arms around all three of us.

"Ladies." Kurt was the first to regain his composure after the gift excitement. "I'm sure I speak for everyone when I say the gifts are appreciated. But now, what  _we_  have all been waiting for, spoiling our favorite baby."

"Mr. Schu would be proud." Brittany said smiling wide. "I think we all finally got  _The Gift of the Magi._  Christmas is about how happy you can make other people, with or without gifts."

It was another hour of opening the gifts for Annie. Britt and I agreed that our favorite was the cat shaped keyboard (which sounded pretty real, though I wasn't surprised considering Rachel had picked it out) but the other twenty-something gifts were awesome too. Clothes, more stuffed animals, enough musical toys to get the baby through college, and even the ridiculous baby music class that Kurt had insisted upon signing Annie up for (" _There's no gift like the gift of music._ ") I actually felt a twinge of sadness when it was time for our friends to leave for the airport, and we'd hugged the, all at the curb, wishing them the best of Christmases and singing  _Jingle Bell Rock_  even as we pulled away from the curb.

* * *

Our parents and Lizzie were already at our apartment when we got back, with Susan and Mamí pulling out all of the food Britt and I had already prepared (to make everyone's lives easier, we'd skipped the ham and gone for lasagna, nothing easier than Italian food on Christmas!). Stephen and my father were watching football and Liz was taking the lid off of a Rubbermaid tote that they'd apparently brought inside. Brittany brought the baby into our bedroom to feed her, and I stood back against the doorframe, taking in the scene of our big crazy family in our decorated apartment. It felt so nice to be grown up, to feel like a person in the real world again.

"Check this out, Santana." Lizzie called, and Susan came running in from the kitchen.

"Wait for Brittany!" She scolded. "I didn't spend twenty-five years on this for it to be ruined now!"

"Twenty-five years on what?" Britt asked, emerging from the bedroom and handing Annie to her dad.

"Buying you an ornament every Christmas. I did it so you'd have them for your own tree someday." Susan grabbed both of our hands and let Lizzie finally open the box.

"You used to buy me ornaments too." I said, surprise evident in my voice.

"Of course I did. We always had a feeling that you two would end up with a Christmas tree together. They're in the box too, you always hung them on  _our_  tree."

"Wow. Thanks mom!" Brittany wrapped her arms around Susan. "I can't believe that's why you gave me these every year."

"And now you had better start the tradition for my granddaughter."

Brittany and I dug into the box, unwrapping each ornament and laughing at the memories attached to them. There were quite a few that were before my time, and some from the  _in-between_ years, but the eight years of Christmases that we'd spent together (only one of which we were a couple, I couldn't believe that Susan and Stephen had always known anyway) held awesome memories for me. I laughed as Lizzie held up our respective Heatmiser and Snowmiser ornaments from Senior Year, the year everyone had dubbed  _The Year Without a Santa Claus_  since it was the first after Britt had to hear the truth from her parents. Brittany blushed, and I kissed both of her cheeks before we started pulling down the crappy generic ball ornaments and replacing them with ones that meant something. My mother-in-law was  _definitely_  right about this being a tradition for us to continue with our own daughter, because having our tree decorated like this made a bigger difference than I'd have ever expected.

"Girls." Mamí said, after she'd shyly backed away from the scene in front of the tree. "I know Javier and I didn't ever do anything like this for you, but we thought we could contribute to your tree as well."

"I'm glad we have these Pierces in our life for good." Papí smiled. "They keep us on our toes."

"This is a special year for you, the year you were married, the year your first child was born. We wanted to give you something to remember it always." She handed Brittany a carefully wrapped box, and together we pulled the paper off.

"Oh, wow." Britt and I said at the same time, seeing the crystal snowflake tree topper, engraved at the bottom with our wedding date and Annie's birthday.

"There's room, too. For when you have more." Mamí informed us, and I swatted her playfully.

"One thing at a time, Mamí. You do know we have a six-month old, right?"

"Oh,  _mi amor_ , hush. We all see how the two of you are with your daughter. I'm not just saying it because I  _want_  more grandbabies, I'm saying it because it's the truth that someday, even if it's far in the future, there  _will_  be more."

"Trust me Mari." Brittany grinned. "If we could make babies on our own, someone would probably already be pregnant. We certainly try enough!"

"Brittany!" Every single other person in the room shouted. And she says  _I'm_  the one with my mind always in the gutter. Apparently talking about sex in front of our parents was  _always_ going to be a holiday thing, and that was one tradition I'd be happy to skip.

"I really have heard too much about my daughter's sex life in the past month." Papí complained.

"Yeah, well, I've been hearing it since they were sixteen." Stephen laughed.

After dinner was done and our moms helped clean up while Brittany and I gave the baby a bath, we dressed Annie in her  _Charlie Brown Christmas_  pajamas (which Britt and I would be wearing bigger versions of later) and came back to sit under the Christmas tree. I loved that it felt like  _our_ tree,  _our_  holiday, not something that was copied out of a generic store display. The baby was yawning, and I wished she could stay up with us longer, but I knew she was fast fading. Mamí went to her bag and pulled out a book, and I smiled, forgetting that she'd read  _'Twas the Night Before Christmas_  to me before bed every Christmas.

" _Ven aquí, Annalisita. Quiero leerte_." Mamí asked, and I passed her baby over to her before wrapping my arms around Brittany and snuggling close. "No matter how tired your Mamí was, we would come home from Church on Christmas Eve and I'd lay in her bed with her and read this story while she waited for Santa."

"I didn't know that, San." Brittany whispered, and I shrugged. It really had been hard for so much of my life to think about the things that had been so good. I wasn't sure why, maybe I was just struggling with myself so badly that it was easier to pretend it was all bad, pretend that I was from the streets of Lima Heights, that my family hadn't loved me. But it hadn't been true, hadn't even close to been true and I sighed, letting all of that leave my body for good as I listened to the story.

" _But I heard him exclaim, 'ere he drove out of sight- Happy Christmas to all and to all a good night."_ My mother finished, and Annie's eyes were beginning to flutter shut. " _Que sueños con los angelitos, bebé."_

Once Annie had gone to bed, it was obvious that everyone else wasn't going to be far behind. Although we'd see them in the morning, there were hugs, thank you's and choruses of  _Merry Christmases_ and  _Feliz Navidads._ There hadn't been a huge celebration with seven fishes or twelve kinds of dessert, but that just not who either of our families were. They were simple, we'd seen in with the ornaments that Susan had saved and the story Mamí had read, and it was more than enough. It was full of love, even magic, as Brittany and I relived years of our lives, as Annie fell asleep in her _abuela's_  arms, as we all laughed and shared stories for a night as if there were no cares in the world.

* * *

The next day was more of the same peaceful simplicity. Sure, there was more than enough food for thirty people, so many gifts, but it wasn't what counted. It was the arms of our loved ones around us (seriously, it was possible that I was going to cause diabetes with the saccharine sweetness that the holidays were causing in my head, someone probably should have just called Hallmark to get me a job) and the shrieking laughter of Annie that made the holiday truly special for everyone who we'd spent it with. When they had all gone home again at the end of Christmas Day and Annie was in bed in her last pair of holiday pajamas, Brittany and I had pulled cushions from the couch and were laying side by side on the floor on our backs, looking up at our Christmas tree.

"The big first Christmas is over." Britt said dreamily.

"For Annie. But  _our_  first Christmas isn't. We've been so busy that we haven't even exchanged gifts."

"Maybe this is a good tradition for us then." Brittany rolled over on her side and I followed suit. "Do everything with everyone else, and then end it with just the two of us."

"I like that. You know we'll need it when Annie's big and we've spent the day searching for batteries and calming her down from her post-Santa rush. Plus, we'll apparently have this other baby that my mother is thinking about." I winked and Britt kissed my forehead.

"Yeah, no rush on that. But someday, after our lives settle down. _A lot._ "

"I like that plan." I cupped her cheek with my hand and kissed her. It was a good thought, the future when the universe decided it was time for us to have a break.

"Here, open this so we can go  _not_  make a baby." Brittany laughed and handed me a small box. I opened it and gasped at the beautiful diamond earrings inside.

"Brittany, whoa. They're beautiful." I looked in her eyes and they were sparking in the tree lights.

"Since your mom gave me your engagement ring, I didn't get to buy you diamonds. But I know you love your bling, and I wanted you to have something that was just from me."

"This." I held up my left hand. "Was all you too, even if you didn't buy it. But I love the earrings. So much. And I love you. My gift is a little selfish compared to yours, for sure."

"Stop babe, I'm sure it's not." Brittany unwrapped her gift to find a key inside the small box. "What's this for?"

"Well it's not really for anything, just an old key that I found, but I didn't want to give you an envelope for Christmas. I booked us a weekend at a bed and breakfast up in the mountains. Only like an hour and a half from here, you know? I mean if you're not okay leaving the baby with Quinn, then-" She cut me off with her lips and I felt her smiling against me.

"I love it, San. It'll be good for us to spend time alone together that doesn't involve sitting in a therapist's office, a police station, anywhere other strange and vaguely uncomfortable place that we manage to find ourselves. Seriously, this is perfect. We'll be able to talk, have uninterrupted sex, just be  _us_  with no responsibilities for two days. I think it's exactly what we need. Thank you."

Brittany tucked the key back in the box, as I put my earrings on, watching her smile at me. She snuggled back into my chest and we lay there, knowing that Christmas was over and we'd have to go back into the real world soon enough. But for the last few hours, we'd enjoy the simple bliss of each other, that magical feeling that exists only in the glow of twinkling colored lights and the smell of pine needles. It was a happy Christmas, the happiest I'd ever remembered, and it was a comfort, knowing that things like this could exist in my world again, even if the struggle continued.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ven aquí: Come here
> 
> Quiero leerte: I want to read to you
> 
> Que sueños con los angelitos, bebé: Dream with the angels, baby


	58. History's Like Gravity

It still hadn't ceased to amaze me, the direction that my life had taken. Sometimes I really believed that I was going to find out that the entirety of the past year would be nothing but a dream. That I'd wake up to nothing but a cold pillow beside me, silence in the apartment, the absence of toys that seemed to find their way into every crevice, that I'd be completely and utterly alone. But dreams don't work the same way real life does. If it had all been a dream, there would be no struggle, no heartache, no pills or therapy sessions, no craving a drink, no guilt, no tears. Those were the things that made my life a reality, and those were the things that made every kiss, every smile, every baby giggle or  _mama_ , every squeeze of my hand, every glance from blue eyes, every cuddle, every  _moment_ so much more awe-inspiring. It was real, oh  _so_  real, and my heart was full with that knowledge.

I'd always been superstitious, probably because I'd grown up hearing the warnings from both my mother and my grandmother.  _Always put the salt down on the table instead of passing it from hand to hand, don't sweep over a single woman's feet, never leave for a trip on a Tuesday_ , there were hundreds of them, ingrained in my conscious as if they were pure fact. There was no day during the year where superstition mattered more than on the cusp of the New Year, and as I dressed (in a yellow bra and panties,  _always_  yellow underwear on the day the year changed) I thought of how many things Brittany and I needed to do in order to ensure that the year to come would be filled with health, wealth and happiness.

"I swept everything out the door and took the trash down." Brittany announced, entering the bedroom with the baby on her hip.

"Thank you." A soft smile came to my face, so greatly appreciating how she didn't think the crazy rituals of my family were ridiculous, greatly appreciating the fact that she even _remembered_  the crazy rituals.

"Hey, I'm not taking any chances. It'll be the first whole year that we're really together." She pulled at the neck line of her sweater so I could see her neon yellow bra. "Wouldn't want something like wearing the wrong color underwear screw that up."

"Are you making fun of me?" I feigned horror.

"Well..maybe just a little." She placed a quick kiss on my lips. "But only because you spent like three hours searching for a place to buy yellow diapers on the internet before calling your mom in a panic."

"How was I supposed to know that a onesie counted?" I held out my arms for Annie, hugging her close to me. "There's never been a new year with a baby before."

"Yeah." Brittany smiled and I could feel the flutter in her heart even with the gap between us. "This year was rough, but even so, it brought us back to each other, and it gave us Annalise."

"And the next one will be even better, because we'll start it together."

"And because we're all wearing the right color." Brittany teased again, and I ignored her attempts to kiss me in exchange for planting my own on Annie's little cheeks.

"You're my favorite." I told the baby. "You're not mean to me like Mama is."

"Only because she can't talk yet." Brittany grinned, and leaned in to whisper to the baby. "I think Mamí needs to read  _You're All My Favorites_  again, because that's not very nice of her to choose just one of us."

"Oh, so only one of us can tease?" I smirked, and pulled her close to us with my free arm. "I know we're stuck going to Kurt and Blaine's Big Gay New Year's Eve Party later, but I'd be happy enough to just stay home with my  _two_  favorites."

"You're not sweet talking your way out of the party, babe. You know we'll never hear the end of it if we don't go." Britt traced my lips with her fingers and I smiled against them. "Besides, I don't care where we are, as long as I get to kiss you at midnight."

* * *

One of the most important things I did every year on December 31st was go back to the place where I started the year. It wasn't one of the superstitions I'd heard from the older Lopez women, it was just something I'd started on my own. Something that reminded me  _you just have to look back to see how far you've come_. In the few years prior, it had been more of a  _see how far you've spiraled_ , but it wasn't like that anymore, this past year had held so much rebuilding, and I was glad to to back to the start and remember that. When 2019 dawned, I'd been at the Downtown Marriott, figuring it was better to spend the night alone in a hotel room than yet another night alone in my apartment. Or rather, figuring that I could sit at a hotel bar and drink without having to get myself home in the black of night. A year later, I stood on the sidewalk outside, my daughter in her carrier against my chest, my wife beside me, with her arm snaked around my waist.

"Are we going inside?" Britt asked and I nodded.

"Where were you last year?" I asked suddenly as we walked through the revolving doors to the lobby.

"My parents' house. Liz skipped like four parties to watch Carson Daly and drink wine with me."

"She's good, your sister." I said, grateful that she hadn't been alone on a night that must have been even harder for her than it had been for me.

"Yeah, she is. She's always been wiser than her years, you know? And she was the only one that I had told about breaking up with Sam, the only one I felt I could trust with the truth. Just before midnight she told me  _'Britt, you're staring at the people in Times Square like she's going to miraculously appear just because she's in New York. You haven't been happy in a long time and now you're just miserable. I'm sick of looking at you like this. You should just go there and_ ** _try_** _. I'm pretty sure there's nothing that could happen there that could make you feel any_ ** _worse_** _._ '"

"What did you say?" I was surprised, and it always made me feel so strange that there were still so many things about our time apart, about the road that brought us back together that I didn't know.

"I shoved her off the couch and told her not to talk about things she didn't understand." Britt blushed at the memory of using violence. "But I guess it turns out she knew better than I did. I just needed a little more time before I could deal with it."

I thought about that as I guided Brittany into the room I wanted us to be in, the room where I'd found myself- relatively sober- before the clock had turned 2018 into 2019. The people we knew were really pushy, that was certainly the truth, but I was glad that we'd both took our time to really understand what we wanted, no, what we needed, before we really reconnected (I smiled at the memory of Britt in those awful tights!) at the theater. The door to the room I was looking for was closed, but I turned the handle, knowing that it wouldn't be locked, knowing that it had probably been long forgotten by anyone who would think to lock it. When we stepped inside, I smiled at the sight of the piano, still there waiting with dust on the keys, like it hadn't been played in a year.

"I was looking for a bathroom." I said by way of explanation. "And then I found this piano just sitting here. I guess people don't play pianos in hotel lobbies anymore so someone stored it away."

"We'll I'm glad you didn't light it on fire." Brittany playfully rolled her eyes and I flicked her arm.

"No way. Once I found this I totally forgot about going to the bathroom or even the bar. I was so excited to be able to sit and play a real piano, even one that's pretty painfully out of tune. It still beats the iPad."

"Will you play for me?" Brittany opened the diaper bag and spread a blanket on the floor, anticipating what my answer would be.

"That's why I brought you here. Last year when I sat at the piano, I mostly played scales, some crappy songs I was working on for the godforsaken Nick Harlow album. Nothing that mattered. But now you're here and I feel like music means something again. And I can do more than just  _play_ , I can actually  _sing_  again. Because of you."

"San, you haven't sang to me since-" She brought her hands over her mouth, not sure if she should say it out loud.

"Since I thought it was a  _brilliant_  idea to sing a Taylor Swift song when breaking up with you." I finished for her. "This is much better. It's the first song that I wrote after you came to New York, the first song I wrote this year. I was really confused then, but I knew, I  _always_  knew how much I  _wanted_  to be with you. What I didn't know was that I'd ever sing again, that I'd ever  _actually_  be with you. I'm usually fighting myself, you know that. But now, the year is over and here we are."

" _Here we are_." Brittany repeated with a slow smile.

Before sitting down at the piano bench, I unbuckled a sleeping Annie from her carrier and kissed her forehead before lying her down on the blanket Britt had laid out on the floor. We stood there for a moment, switching glances between the baby and each other, a strange sense of anticipation in the air. It wasn't like I didn't  _sing_ , sure, there were quick snippets in the apartment on a regular basis, but it had been  _seven years_  since I'd let Brittany hear my feelings through music. Seven years since I'd let her see into my soul in the same way I'd seen hers when she had danced at the showcase. I squeezed her hands before sitting down and gestured for her to sit beside me.

_Come to me my sweetest friend_  
Can you feel my heart again?  
I'll take you back where you belong  
And this will be our favorite song

_Come to me with secrets bare_  
I'll love you more so don't be scared  
When we're old and near the end  
We'll go home and start again

It was strange to be signing this to Brittany, the song I'd written in the days before Finn had told me to go for the unicorns and rainbows. Before I'd known if I was even capable of the things I was promising in the song, capable of forgiveness. But that was the point of the ritual, and I was so, so glad for the way the year had turned. I glanced over at Brittany, gauging her reaction, and I could see her biting back tears. Nudging her with my elbow, I kept my fingers on the keys and continued to sing, wanting her to know that even when things had been  _hard_ , even when things would be hard in the future, we'd always be able to start again, always be able to be  _us_. It was the most important thing I'd learned in 2019, that old Latin phrase that had become so cliche was actually true; love  _does_ conquer all.

_I caught you burning photographs_  
Like that could save you from your past  
History's like gravity  
It holds you down away from me

_You and me, we've both got sins_  
I don't care about where you've been  
Don't be sad and don't explain  
This is where we start again  
Start again.

"Santana." Brittany grabbed both of my cheeks and pulled me to her, kissing me deeply. "That was beautiful."

"You're beautiful." I said back, but it ended up sounding so much cheesier than I'd meant.

"Okay Casanova." She laughed through her tears and rested her head on my shoulder. "There's so much I want to tell you, so much I'm afraid to say because I'm terrified to make you sad."

"Britt, you never have to be scared to tell me things. But I understand. Of all the terrifying things I've done in the past few months, the worst was having to tell you what he said to me, having to see you hurt like that."

"It does hurt, but not because of you. When I was in therapy this week, Dr. Nance kind of helped me realize that, that you'd let me in to something that was so hard for you, and that maybe it was time for me to do the same."

"Only if you're ready, Britt. I love you, and I want to know everything that you're thinking, but I don't want you to do it because someone else thinks it's right, or because my mom has a superstition about going into the new year with things left unsaid. I only want you to do it if you are ready."

"I am. I was pretty sure this morning, and then you singing that song was almost like some kind of sign. The hard things make us love each other more. The things that have happened are the past, and we have to deal with the, to make it to our future."

We sat there silently for a few more minutes, both of us processing our separate thoughts. It was terrifying, and in the silence, the magnitude of what was about to happen set in. There was so much that was still hazy in my head about the night I was attacked. There was so much that Brittany remembered that made her feel more guilty. I was scared to know, scared to feel her pain, but I was also ready, ready for both of us to be free from the demons of our past. It wasn't like discussing it would be some miracle elixir that would make it all go away, but it was  _something_  that would move the process further along.

"I'm ready when you are." I said softly, flicking my eyes over to the baby, glad to see that she was still sleeping soundly.

"Okay." Brittany's voice was hardly a whisper, and I turned slightly so I could look into her eyes. "Kissing you has always been completely different from anyone else. I could never explain it to anyone, but I know that you understand what I'm talking about. It's more than just a physical reaction, it's this intense emotional experience, like I can feel  _everything_  that is running through your head, every single time. When we kissed that night, I felt everything that I knew I was missing. Love, forgiveness, the possibility of a future with the one person who had  _always_  meant everything to me. I've loved a lot of people, that was always something that hurt you, but there was  _never_  another you."

I swallowed hard, trying to keep from crying so early on. There was so much love and sincerity in her eyes that it actually hurt. I understood completely, and she understood that I needed to hear those words again before she could continue.

"So we kissed, and your friend got me back to the hotel where I could hardly control my excitement. It felt like the first day of the rest of my life. And I guess, in a way, it was. But not in the way I expected. While I waited for you, I watched some terrible TV movies, and at some point, I fell asleep. While you, my soulmate, the love of my life, was being..."

"Attacked." I said for her, assuring her that I was okay if she said the word.

"Attacked." She repeated. "I was  _sleeping_ , still reeling from everything that kiss had meant. That's what it is, I think, where so much of my guilt lies. Even after I left, after I  _thought_  that I was doing the right thing, I remembered everything you'd told me that night without words. As destroyed as I was by leaving, I actually was comforted by the fact that we'd shared this moment of understanding. I didn't know that you wouldn't remember it, I didn't know that it was the cause of what had happened to you, and I didn't even understand how deep your suffering went. So now, after a year of  _learning_ all of that, I have to learn to accept my role in everything."

"This kiss wasn't the cause." I brushed my fingers against her cheekbone. "I understand why you feel like that, but the only thing that caused this to happen was some psychotic homophobe who was spying in the locker room at a strip club. As if he was going to see anymore than he did while I was on stage."

"I know, I do. That's the point where I'm at right now. Rationally, I know. I'm just working on emotionally accepting it, does that make sense?"

"It does." I was quiet for a moment. "I'm not sure that I can say anymore that I wish more than anything that I didn't happen."

"What?" Brittany looked at me like she was possibly going to have to have me committed.

"I can't. Dr. Collins asked me what about my past I would change, and when I started thinking about it, I realized that there's nothing that I could say that I would. I survived, and we found our way back to each other. If I hadn't been attacked, if you hadn't left, we wouldn't have this baby that we love so much, and I don't think I could trade that for anything in the world. If I could take it away and still have this life, there's no question that I would, obviously. I'd love to live without being terrified so much of the time, without the scars on my body, especially without there being someone like him in the world. But so much of that will fade, some day. This life, it's not going to. Maybe it's because I fell asleep watching  _It's a Wonderful Life_  the other night, but even the bad shit that has happened led to other things that are so good. I don't know, Britt, sometimes I don't even recognize myself with all of this positive energy surrounding me, but I really do think even the most fucked up things happen for some greater good."

"Thank you. For saying that, I mean. I'm trying San, really hard, and I know I'll get there. Watching you become so accepting, so open to talking about this, something that happened to  _you_ ,  _not_  directly to me makes me really believe that. And having you be so patient with me, not telling me to suck it up and deal, really makes it easier."

"This was something that was all mine for so long, and I'm not going to lie, it was hard to accept that you had to deal with it too, that your role was no longer just to be there for me. But I get it. Just because you weren't physically attacked doesn't mean you don't suffer from it."

We'd sat in that hotel storage room for at least another hour after that, just talking, holding each other, trying to let the old things go so we could start the new year fresh. I realized then that letting go doesn't necessarily mean forgetting, doesn't even necessarily mean being over it. It just means moving forward, even with a difficult past. Together, Brittany and I were doing that, building our lives in the ashes of something else.

* * *

Just before midnight, Brittany and I were curled up on the love seat in Kurt and Blaine's apartment, Annie nestled between us, asleep in her shimmery purple dress. People we didn't know shuffled around us, preparing for the ball to drop, and I rolled my eyes, still not really keen on spending the holiday surrounded by strangers. This is why I'd wanted to stay home, so I could be doing exactly the same thing without other people stopping to make polite conversation with us. I went to say as much to Britt when Finn appeared in the room, dragging a slightly tipsy Rachel behind him.

"There you guys are!" He smiled, lighting up the room with that grin of his. "We wanted to be with the people we love when the ball drops."

"And seriously, there is no one we love more than you three and Kurt and Blaine!" Rachel giggled, and I tried to roll my eyes before smiling at her. She was so vocally dorky that it was actually impossible not to appreciate it.

"It is what you're supposed to do." Brittany said knowingly, announcing yet another one of the superstitions I'd been raised on.  _Start the year with the ones you love and you'll be blessed with even more in the coming months._ "Where are Kurt and Blaine?"

"Right here!" Kurt bounced into the room, and Blaine was only a few steps behind him.

"It's too bad our families went home. And that Quinn is still in Lima." I said softly, but knowing that the ones that were with us possessed enough love to make it all alright.

"We'll call them as soon as it's 2020." Britt pressed her lips against mine, and I deepened it just for an instant. Our last kiss of the year.

"It's time!" Blaine cried, and I felt a shiver of anticipation creep into my chest. It was ridiculous, rationally, I knew that there would literally be no difference in anything a few seconds from now, but I loved the symbolism, loved the idea of everything beginning anew.

_10...9...8...7...6...5...4...3...2..._

"Happy New Year!" The room erupted.

Before I could make a move, Brittany's hands were on my cheeks, dragging our lips together. I'd never put so much into a kiss as I did in that moment, love, understanding, the  _guarantee_  of the rest of our lives together. When I pulled away, I could see the tears sparkling in her eyes, and I pulled her back toward me for another kiss. She felt it, I knew, all I wanted her to feel.

" _That_  is the kiss I want you to remember for the rest of your life." I whispered, my lips still so close to hers. "I love you, Brittany, so much. Happy, happy new year."

"I love you too, Santana. Forever."

Gently, the two of us leaned down to kiss our sleeping daughter, letting her absorb all of our love too. The first year that we'd all be together as a family for all of it. Annie's first full year of  _life_. It was an amazing feeling, and I knew that I was actually beaming. As Finn passed around sparkling cider and we hugged and kissed each one of our friends, called our families, reveled in the newness of the year, I didn't stop smiling. I was going to be okay,  _we_  were going to be okay, and I couldn't ask for more. Surprisingly, it was me who broke into song first, and then the others followed suit.  _Should auld acquaintance be forgot and ne'er brought to mind? Should auld acquaintance be forgot and auld lang syne?_

 


	59. Heartbeats

Trust had never been my strong suit, that was a fact. For most of the twenty-five years of my life, Brittany had been the only person I'd ever put my full trust in. After Annalise was born, after my friends out their entire lives on hold to be there for us, after my mother finally fully redeemed herself (in my eyes) for the biggest mistake she'd ever made by helping Britt when she was struggling and there was nothing I could do, I finally allowed myself to have faith in people. Of course, I wasn't sure that my walls would ever fully come down, but I was taking baby steps, and every once in a while, gigantic leaps for good measure. Asking Quinn to take Annie for an entire weekend was one of those leaps.

For someone who was quick to insult people, and very slow to make friends, I actually was never really a grudge holder. That was probably pretty obvious with the way I'd forgiven my mother for asking Brittany to leave, forgiven Britt for actually leaving. Maybe it was because I didn't usually let people in, that the ones I did weren't easily shut out, I don't know, it was probably something Dr. Collins could better explain. Quinn Fabray (or Chapman, whatever, I still wasn't sure if she went by her maiden or married name, that's why hyphenating was so much easier) was different, she'd spent most of the time I'd known her lingering just on the edge of my trust bubble. In some ways, she knew me better than the rest of my friends, understood me on a different level, but we'd always make progress and than either slap each other or sleep with each other, and then it would all be lost. But that had all changed at Thanksgiving, after she'd not only spoken to me in the car, but stood by me at BreadStix, and she'd finally crossed the threshold into my inner circle. That's why I'd asked her to watch Annie, because it's lame, but actions do speak louder than words, and with that, I could finally complete my amends with her.

"Think you guys brought enough stuff?" Quinn laughed as I dropped the last of Annie's things inside her living room. "This is seriously worse than something out of a 90's sitcom."

"Glad to see you still have quite the exciting life, spending your days watching TV Land again?" I smirked.

"Pot, meet kettle."

"Okay, point taken." I smiled and felt Brittany's hand rubbing my lower back. She knew as well as we did that a few months ago, a comment like that would have escalated unnecessarily into a full blown argument. "Seriously though Quinn, thank you. We really appreciate you doing this."

"Any time, you know that. Now go, have a good time and I'd say I look forward to hearing about it when you come back, but that would be a total lie, since I know it will lead to some over share that will give me nightmares about the two of you."

"We have a healthy sex life." Brittany winked. "Sorry that I can't control myself from saying things about my hot wife."

"We know. I don't think anyone could forget when you wanted to sing My Cup at Nationals." Quinn groaned.

"I never thought I'd say this, but poor Artie. That guy had no idea what he was singing about." I shook my head, remembering how I'd cringed at the sounds of enjoyment Artie had made while singing Brittany's song.

"And you two wonder why I thought you were looking for a threesome that weekend. You had Artie singing a song about going down on Santana, Britt."

"Okay never, ever, use the words 'Artie' and 'going down on Santana' in the same sentence again. That's not even wanky, that's just disgusting."

"Anyway." Britt was grinning, and I knew exactly what was coming. "Speaking of going down on Santana, Quinn is right, babe, we should say goodbye."

"You see, over sharing!" Quinn tried to complain, but she laughed more instead. "Say goodbye to your kid and just go before I have to hear any more. And especially before Annie does."

It was hard, even for Britt who never had issues trusting anyone, to say goodbye to our daughter for the entire weekend. For me, who did, I felt my heart breaking more than just a little. It was a normal reaction, I knew, but it was agonizing for me. I didn't even care that Quinn saw me maybe crying just a little bit as I kissed Annie goodbye for the dozenth time, looking at her like we'd come back and she would ready to start college. There was no doubt in my mind at that moment that I'd completely gone soft for that child, but what could I even do? Motherhood had completely changed me for the better.

"Mamí loves you, corazóncita." I sighed, finally kissing her for the last time.

"And so does Mama, sweetheart." Brittany added and gave her own last kiss before Quinn decided to intervene and forcibly remove us from the baby.

"We'll be fine, you're barely eighty miles away from us, and with the way you drive, Santana, that's like twenty minutes."

"Oh shut up, Quinn. I'm a much slower driver now that we have a baby. Which reminds me-" Brittany cut me off with a kiss, since I'd seriously reminded Quinn about not texting and driving (and wedding-crazed Rachel, about never texting Quinn while the baby was with her) close to a hundred times. "You know it's not you, right?"

"I do." Quinn smiled, and I was glad she understood that this had nothing to do with not trusting her. "Britt has always trusted me, and even she sent me six e-mails last night. One of which was just five hundred words about how to defrost frozen breast milk."

"I love you." I said to Britt. "I love that you hide it really well, but sometimes you're just as neurotic as I am."

"Well, no one would take me seriously if I started threatening people, but I can do things in my way. And I think it's really sweet how neurotic and protective you are." Brittany kissed me again.

"Oh just go, seriously! Before I have to get a live show of what everyone has already seen on the Internet!"

"You never know, maybe we'll use this weekend to make another video." Britt giggled and I shook my head, still laughing.

It took us another ten minutes to get out the door, but we finally managed. An hour and a half later, we had checked into our room, and I made Brittany close her eyes as I led her into our room that overlooked the beautiful frozen lake. I was thrilled as I walked inside, seeing the gigantic arrangement of sterling roses and daisies, the candles and the bed already turned down for us.

"Open your eyes." I said, leading Brittany first to the picture window that looked out on a scene that could have graced a postcard. The lights from the gigantic old mansion reflected out on the snowy lake, and even the most hardened cynics would have thought that it was just a little bit magical.

"Santana." Brittany almost whispered, a huge smile lighting up her face before turning around to look at the inside of the room. "This is just...God, it's amazing."

"Yeah, well." I shrugged, suddenly feeling really shy about the plans I'd made for the weekend. "You deserve special things like this."

"So do you." She said softly, wrapping her arms around my waist.

I sighed happily into Brittany, my arms finding their way to her neck and pulling her close to me. The love I could feel in that simple embrace was overwhelming, and I closed my eyes and listened to her heart beating. My father, as a cardiologist, would probably disown me for saying that I could hear Brittany's heart literally calling out to mine, but I didn't care about the medical science behind it, I knew without a doubt that was true. For a while, I was completely obsessed with that overwrought, incredibly sappy Robert Downey Jr. movie Only You where they talk about humanity being cursed by the gods and having hearts split into two bodies and having to find the other half. To me, that felt so much truer than that pulsating organ being just useful for pumping blood, it was meant to tell me who I belonged to. A reminder I would never get tired of hearing.

"Tell me what you're thinking about." Britt whispered, kissing me on the temple.

"Do you believe in fate?" I smiled, quoting the movie.

"I believe in you." She quoted back. "We watched that movie every day for like a year!"

"That movie was awesome. Although I still think the real soulmates were Faith and Kate. Faith should have given up on all the men and realized that her best friend was the only one who could understand her unique brand of crazy."

"I guess not everyone can be us."

"No, I guess not."

We stood in the window, trading increasingly more heated kisses and touches, savoring the fact that we had all the time in the world. Gently, Brittany unwound the scarf from my neck, replacing it's warmth on the angry marks with her soft lips. Always, before she kissed anywhere else on my body, she would begin there, like each kiss was filled with healing magic. Maybe the lines would never fade, forever remaining as a reminder of how I became the person I was, but Brittany was healing me with each kiss. She was healing the insecurity (sometimes, I'd even leave the house without remembering to cover myself up) and she'd almost completely relieved me of the burning I used to feel almost constantly in that spot.

"Beautiful." The same thing she always said as she reached my left breast, the very end of the biggest scar, never failing to make my heartbeat quicken.

"The things you do to me." I breathed into her hair, lifting my arms as she moved to take my shirt off.

"You don't know the half of it." Her voice was rough and her eyes dark as she took a step back to look at me in my bra and jeans. "Seriously, I could look at you half naked, fully naked, whatever, without stopping, forever. You don't even know how beautiful you really are."

"Brittany." My cheeks heated up and I struggled to keep looking in her eyes. Even before, even when I spent most of my time telling people what a hot bitch I was, I'd never fully tamped the insecurities I'd felt about my own body. And after, seeing the sincerity in my wife's eyes as she told me how beautiful she thought I was made me feel so loved that it hurt. "You make me feel like I'm the most special person in the world."

"You are. And thank you, again, for planning this weekend. We've been through so much since the last time we've been alone together and it means so much to me to be able to just enjoy you."

"I agree. That's why I said this was a little selfish." I gave Britt a little half smile before tugging at the hem of her shirt and removing it. My smile spread when I realized she wasn't wearing a bra and I kissed her right shoulder. "You're beautiful too, you know."

The heat that was passing between our bodies was becoming slightly unbearable, and I needed to touch her more than I already was. As I kissed her lips again, this time much more greedily than the previous ones, she wasted no time unbuttoning my jeans and I slid them down my legs. Before I could touch her again, Brittany had taken her own off and was backing me up to the bed.

"We can be as loud as we want." Brittany smirked, looking at me with so much desire that me knees buckled. We'd probably be eighty years old and she would still be able to make me crumble with just one look.

"Is that a challenge?"

"Babe, we both know you're always the loudest anyway."

"Totally not my fault, you-" My words caught in my throat when Britt unhooked the front clasp of my bra and pressed her bare chest against me, stopping our silly banter and causing me to collapse back on the bed.

Brittany kissed me again and I could feel her smiling into it, knowing full well the effect she was already having on me. Feeling her smile like that always made my body pulse with desire, knowing that I was the cause of her happiness and I always searched for ways to show her that she was the source of mine. When she removed her lips from mine and started to work her way down my body, I stopped her and I couldn't help but let out a small laugh when she pouted. Pulling her back up so our faces were level again, I looked into her eyes, already almost the color of sapphires, and silently told her relax, we have all weekend. I sucked the spot on her neck that I knew would drive her as crazy as she was driving me. My right hand rested between her shoulder blades, holding her where she was, while my left slipped between her legs, causing a moan to rise in her chest.

I was eternally grateful for panties with ties, because one quick motion could grant me much better access to Brittany. I'd become so preoccupied with Britt's body that I didn't notice her actions until she touched me and I gasped, deepening my own arousal. It never took us long before we matched our rhythms, both of us knowing the other's bodies better than we knew our own. It was that, the way I knew just by one tiny change in her eyes exactly how close she was, the way Britt could tell just by my breathing exactly what I wanted her to do, that proved countless times just how much better sex was with feelings. Hearing Brittany's murmured I love you's sent me over the edge just an instant before her, and when she moved her lips back to mine and joined me, my entire body went into a state of bliss.

"Jesus fucking Christ." I cried out, still holding her tight with one hand.

"Mmhmm." She mumbled, burying her face in the crook of my neck.

Slowly coming down from my high, I rolled Brittany on to her back, loving nothing more than the sight of my beautiful wife in that trance she'd fallen into. She probably wasn't even conscious of the motion, but her fingers wrapped around my wrist, dragging my hand to rest over her heart, to feel the thumping there as it slowed down. I pressed a kiss in the spot, then repeated the action over her exposed chest and abdomen, cherishing her in a way words never could. Britt didn't speak, but reached down and stroked my cheek, appreciating my motions, but calling me back up to her mouth. My lips finally met hers again and she sighed, always the one who was less capable of words after sex. Glad we did it your way, she silently told me and I kissed each of her eyelids, urging her to sleep.

I couldn't believe how long we'd slept, but when I woke up the next morning, the sun was bright in the sky. Having naturally shifted into our big spoon/little spoon positioning while we were asleep, Brittany nuzzled my neck from behind. It wasn't long before things heated up again, and it was close to noon by the time we'd showered and bundled up to leave the hotel room. Britt had sworn that she didn't need to go anywhere but bed, but I was desperately trying to be romantic, and I knew just how much she loved the freaking snow.

"We're going on a hike?" She asked skeptically and I slipped our gloved hands into my coat pocket, already feeling the intense bite of the mountain cold.

"I wouldn't go that far, Britt." I smiled. "I live in the city for a reason, we both know I'm not very outdoorsy. But this walking path is supposed to be really pretty, and even I can admit that the snow does look nice when it's not covered in car exhaust and piss."

"Touching." She joked, but gave me a look to tell me that she did appreciate the small gesture.

Turns out, the place I wanted to take Brittany was actually more of a downhill hike than a walk, but I did my very best and didn't complain about it. Watching the excitement in her eyes as she pointed out the animals scurrying through the snow (squirrels, birds, chipmunks, a freaking beaver...) made braving the cold completely worth it. When we reached our destination, the actual frozen lake that we could see from our window, I took out sandwiches and the thermos of hot chocolate and Britt pulled me down to sit beside her on the blanket she laid out in the snow.

"Only for you would I sit on the snowy ground in January." I joked, sneaking a quick kiss.

"Not true. You would for Annie too."

"You're right." A smile played on my lips, thinking about how I'd do anything in the world that either of them asked me.

"You know Santana, after the baby was born it seems like we've had one crazy thing happen after another. And I know that I've thanked you for a lot of things having to do with Annie, but I don't think I've ever actually thanked you for just being her mother."

"It's not something you have to thank me for, Britt. From the first time I heard her heartbeat, I knew she was mine. And then watching her take her first breaths, watching her open her eyes when no one was sure if she'd even make it, that just solidified it. I never thought I'd love another person as deeply as I love you, but then Annie came, and I do."

"I love watching you with her, you know?" She rested her head on my shoulder and I put my arm around her. "It's like every time I think I can't love you any more, I'll catch you speaking to her like she's a tiny grown up, making silly voices when you're reading a story or picking her up to snuggle her one last time before she falls asleep, and then I do. So even if I don't have to say it, I mean it, so much."

"Thanks for saying it Britt, she's my tiny little sunshine and I can't imagine my life if she wasn't my daughter."

We sat there laughing, talking, throwing snow at each other and stealing quick kisses until my butt had gone completely numb from the cold and the hot chocolate was long gone. Across the lake, we watched a family of wolves and Brittany clasped her hand over her mouth from screaming out in delight. It was this beautiful, perfect moment, and snuggled in closer to Brittany, thinking how adorable it was how such simple things made her so happy.

When we got back to our room, we were all over each other again, finally making use of the gigantic bathtub before getting ready for dinner. Just as we were finishing getting ready, we got a call from the front desk, letting us know that there was a storm warning in effect for the southern counties in New York State. Words didn't even need to be exchanged between Britt and I to know that it wasn't going to be possible to even enjoy ourselves with that information, and our daughter at Quinn's. Quickly, we packed our things, but it wasn't until we were in the car that I let my anger come out.

"I fucking hate the snow!" I seethed, failing miserably at not acting like a crazy bitch. "Fucking ruins everything!"

"San, it didn't-"

"Yes it did! I wanted to take you to a nice dinner, then a nighttime walk in that cute little town that I thought you'd like. But no, this weekend there has to be a snowstorm when our daughter is away from us!"

"Pull the car over." Britt demanded.

"What?"

"Pull the car over, Santana. You're not driving like this."

I didn't know what else to do, so I listened to Britt and she switched seats with me. Embarrassed for my outburst, upset that I may have ruined the weekend that was did have with my outburst, and nervous about getting back to the baby before the storm (which may not have been necessary, but any mother would have done it), I sulked in the passenger seat. Trying to occupy myself, I sent Quinn a text letting her know we were on our way, that we were going to stay with her if it looked like the storm was coming on quickly. Every few minutes, I'd sneak glances at Brittany, trying to gauge how mad she was at me.

"I'm sorry Britt." I said meekly.

"Babe, you have nothing to be sorry for. I know you're nervous about driving at night and getting back to the baby. Yeah, you overreacted, but I get it. You worked hard planning this weekend."

"And it got ruined." I sighed dejectedly.

"It didn't though! So we had to leave like twelve hours early, okay that really sucks. But the rest of it was perfect, our snow picnic, the flowers, being able to spend half of the day naked with you, and mostly just the fact that you know exactly what makes me happy."

"I just feel like I've never really gotten a chance to do all these big romantic things for you, and I want to. I know this weekend wasn't even much, but like I told you when we got here, you deserve things that are special."

"You do things that are special for me all the time. Like when you leave me notes on the bathroom mirror, or send pictures of Annie holding signs that say We Miss You! when I'm at work, or that you never fall asleep without kissing me goodnight. And the fact that you tell me I'm beautiful even when I look like death walking, or when you bring home things just because they remind you of me. Last night and today were incredible, but I didn't need it to prove that you love me."

"I know. I just want to make sure you know. Sometimes I wish there were more things I could give you. I mean most of the time we're so happy in the house, but I thought it would be nice to do something different together."

"It was, I had a great time. But I don't want you beating yourself up over something that you can't control, and that doesn't matter anyway. You know I never needed sweeping romantic gestures, having you was enough."

"Thanks Britt." I sighed again. "Especially for not being mad at me."

"You're welcome. I love you Santana."

"I love you too Britt."

"See, that's all I need to know."

For the rest of the drive to Quinn's, we sat in comfortable silence, and I was so that I had Brittany to understand me and put up with my (increasingly less) frequent outbursts. She was right, we'd had an amazing time. We didn't need rose petals on the bed or jet setting off to romantic vacations, as much as sometimes I wanted to give that to her. Whether we were playing in the snow on a weekend that had been cut short, lying in bed together at home, or playing on the floor with our daughter, we both knew how much we meant to each other, how our love had survived so much and was stronger because of it, and that would always be enough.


	60. Grownups

It's funny how becoming an adult changes so much. By becoming an adult, I don't mean the age milestones, eighteen to vote and buy cigarettes, twenty-one to buy alcohol (not that age made a difference on that for me, I'd had a fake ID since I was sixteen anyway), I mean the actual internal shift in being, the process of growing up. Despite the fact that I'd graduated high school, moved to New York, went through a bunch of shit, got a great job, I was still just a child living in an adult's world. It wasn't until Brittany came back, or maybe not even until that night in the hospital where I thought I was going to lose my whole world, that I became a full fledged grown up. Once that happened, everything changed, and in all honesty, it changed for the much better.

The first time Finn and Rachel decided to get married, we weren't adults (despite Rachel's choice of clothing), none of us. As part of a show choir, we dressed up in costume regularly, that almost-wedding was no different. We'd all been asked to be bridesmaids, and I had said yes only because Brittany had convinced me that it was the right thing to do. Eight years later, we weren't kids in costume any more, pretending that we had any idea about that sanctity of marriage, pretending we had any idea about the future. This time, there was no rush (obviously, since it took my dear friend long enough to figure out her own head) and there was no insistence that everyone the couple had ever met stand up and be a part of their day. No, as adults, we realize that sometimes the people we hold most dear to us are the ones we'd never expect, and as Rachel's only bridesmaid this time around, I understood that sentiment.

Much to the surprise of everyone who knew me, and in spite of my original suggestion that Rachel give the role to Kurt (he was Finn's best man, so it was sort of the same, I guess), I was taking my responsibility extremely seriously. After the abrupt end to Brittany and my weekend away, the subsequent three day snowstorm and Brittany's return to work the following week, wedding-crazed Rachel soon to be Berry-Hudson became a suitable distraction for me. I'd probably shocked Kurt the most when I went head to head with him months earlier over Rachel's bridal shower. I flat out refused to let him or anyone else plan it, pay for it, anything. After all that she and Finn had done for me, I wanted to do something, even as simple as a party, to recognize that I'd never be able to fully repay either of them. By the morning of the shower though, as Brittany and I sat with the baby at Alice's Tea Cup waiting for everyone to arrive, I was feeling pretty self-satisfied (if not extremely stressed) with what I'd managed to pull off.

"Rachel is going to be beside herself when she gets here." Britt smiled and kissed me.

"Doesn't take much for that." I grinned, and she swatted my arm. "But doesn't look too bad for the first party I've ever thrown, right?"

"It's beautiful. And even more so because you really put your whole heart into it. It's very rare that I've seen you put so much effort into something that isn't for me or the baby."

"New Year's Resolution, remember? Actually show that I care about my friends."

"It's more than just a resolution and you know it." Britt said, shaking her head.

"You're right. I never would have thought that I'd care so much about being in a wedding, but I do. I feel like such a dork that I'm giddy over the thought of standing up there and handing Rachel the ring when she marries the love of her life, giddy over the fact that I have friends who are close enough to me that they invited my parents to their wedding, even giddy over meaning enough to that crazy girl that of everyone she knows, she asked me to be the only bridesmaid, and knowing that if we'd had a wedding like this, I'd have asked the same of her. Who would have thought I'd actually like having other friends but you?"

"I knew. Even though you pretended you didn't care about anyone else, I knew you did. When Jesse St. James threw eggs at Rachel, you were dead set on revenge, you yelled at Sue for making Mercedes feel fat, you tried to help Quinn when she fell in the ashtray, you started the Bullywhips to protect Kurt, and you just about killed that creepy Sebastian guy for almost blinding Blaine. You didn't want them to know that you cared, but you did. And just so you know, Rachel is just as protective of you as you are of her."

"What do you mean?" I raised an eyebrow.

"Quinn wasn't the only one who got defensive right before our wedding. The day after our wedding announcement brunch, Rachel in all her five-foot-three-inch glory showed up at my job and said-" Brittany switched to a voice uncannily similar to Rachel's. "I trust you, Brittany, and I know you love Santana, but she means as much as an actual sister to me. If you hurt her, you will regret it."

"She did not! She's such a dork!" The laughter at the thought of that burst from my chest. "What did you even do?"

"I'm telling you, she was so serious that I couldn't even laugh at her. I just promised her that I wouldn't hurt you and then, in true Rachel fashion, she gave me a huge hug. I'm so glad she's your friend though, you two are good for each other."

"Yeah, I guess we kind of are. I always thought it was Quinn and I who were two sides of the same coin, but it turns out we are way too much alike to have the same kind of relationship as Berry and I. The bitch-diva thing works well for us. Even if I do sometimes hate the way she talks, and hate that she sings about everything."

"Do you think she'll want to sing today?"

"Have you ever known her not to? This party is a surprise, and she probably still has a musical number prepared."

It wasn't long before everyone else started to arrive. I could feel the warmth of Brittany smiling at me as she talked to my mother (who'd driven in from Ohio that morning. I'd invited her, of course, but insisted she didn't have to come all the way for it. Turns out, she had an even softer spot for Berry than I did. But I guess that didn't surprise me, given the past few years.) and walked around with Annie, playing gracious hostess. Of course, at Kurt's insistence, it was a "Girls and Gays" shower (even though he told me I was being slightly offensive when I'dcalled it that), and he bounded into the room with Blaine on his heels, gushing about he couldn't have done it better himself, the highest of compliments from Lady Hummel! Hiram and Leroy Berry were hugging me, and I managed to keep from cringing at that, and I waved across the room to Tina and Mercedes who were admiring the decor. The biggest surprise to me was watching Quinn and Shelby (who's relationship with Rachel I still didn't quite understand, but since she was invited to the wedding, I wanted to include her in the shower) speaking quietly in the corner. Brittany had told me that Quinn wrote a letter of apology to Shelby two years after we'd graduated, and although it was too painful for her to see Beth in person, Shelby did send her pictures and updates every year. It was nice, watching them talk about the now ten year old girl, yet another sign of how grown up we'd all become.

I realized how much of an impact Rachel had on people while I was saying hello to a very pregnant Emma Pillsbury, or rather, Schuester, who was tickling Annie's toes. As small as she was, Rachel took up a lot of space in people's hearts, and the fact that Mr. Schu's wife had come all the way from Ohio, seven weeks away from her due date, was a testament to that. While I was introducing myself to some of the theater people, a hush fell over the room and I looked up to see Rachel and Carol Hummel with their arms linked, a look of pure joy on my friend's face. Finn and Burt were a few steps behind them, standing awkwardly, obviously waiting for their cue to leave, but they both shot me grateful smiles. There were several shouts of surprise, and Rachel was glowing as her dads wrapped their arms around her.

"Kurt!" She shrieked, happy tears streaming down her face. "Was this you?"

"I wish I could say it was. But after all these years, I've learned that when Santana wants something, she'll take it at any cost. I greatly value my life, so I didn't fight her on this."

"You?" Rachel looked at me incredulously and I cast my eyes down, feeling embarrassed as everyone looked at me. Brittany took the baby from my arms and nudged me forward. "Thank you, so, so much. Everyone is here! I've seen you every day this week and I can't even believe you were able to keep it a secret."

"It was no big deal." I mumbled, feeling the heat in my cheeks. I really wasn't good at being nice, and being appreciated for said niceness.

"But it is. I'm going to hug you now!"

"You don't have to get permission anymore." I admitted quietly. "But you can only do it like, once a month."

Rachel threw her arms around me, and I hugged her back, hard. It really meant a lot to me that she was happy about this, that I could really recognize how much she meant to me. It was a long hug, and when we finally pulled away from each other, I tried to wipe my eyes before anyone could see the beginning of the tears that had formed in them. Damn Rachel Berry, actually making me express my emotions. While she bounced off to greet everyone else, and introduce them to her soon-to-be mother-in-law, Finn caught me in another hug before I'd fully recovered from his fiancée's.

"Please don't get me all emotional." I begged him, laughing against his chest.

"Oh, I won't. The reason I'm getting out of here is that I know Rachel is going to be all kinds of emotional today. Especially because she was so dead-set on figuring out when Kurt was throwing her shower, and you totally blindsided her." Finn grinned.

"C'mon, I know I was a shitty friend for a while, but I wouldn't have totally shirked the one real responsibility I have in this wedding. Besides, you know, threatening her until she picked a date. I don't think I'll have to threaten her down the aisle, will I? She hasn't decided this wedding will open a hell mouth or anything yet?"

"No." He laughed. "She's ready. I'm ready, the day can't come soon enough."

"Well, before it comes, I'm stealing your best man's most important duty. Since I think I'm slightly more capable of it than he is." I winked and Finn looked shyly around before answering.

"Strippers?"

"Of course strippers." I laughed. "I don't think you want the kind your brother would get for you."

"Thanks, I greatly appreciate that."

"Any time, I'm lucky enough that my wife is just as excited to help me with this as I am to do it."

"You guys are so awesome. I'm already thinking of how exactly to blame the strippers entirely on you, when Rachel asks, and this is like an activity that you and Brittany do together. I love it."

"What can I say? That's just how we are. Just because we can appreciate naked, hot girls, doesn't mean we don't both think each other are the hottest. Now go, get out of here before your future wife starts crying over cheese graters or something. If you want to take me with you, you're more than welcome to!" I joked.

"You don't actually want to leave." Finn marveled, clearly surprised.

"No." I answered honestly. "I don't. I wouldn't miss my best friend bawling, and possibly singing about kitchen appliances for the world."

After Rachel managed to greet the seventy-eight people who had shown up for her shower (I don't even think I knew half that amount of people, let alone have them show up at a party for me. Who would have thought Rachel would be the popular one? But I didn't want that anymore, and she really deserved it.) we sat down for high tea. With one hand on my leg, Brittany bounced Annie on her knee while the baby banged a spoon on the edge of the table, and I beamed at the looks that my beautiful family was getting from the other people in attendance. A waiter passed around champagne, and I urged Britt to take a glass, to properly raise it to the bride while I couldn't. She hesitated a moment, looking deeply into my eyes to make sure I was sincere in my encouragement, before nodding to the young server in confirmation. Smiling, I kissed her jaw as she squeezed my upper arm, silently telling me how happy she was with how far I'd come in my recovery. It wasn't like I'd be comfortable in a bar any time soon, but being around a champagne toast wasn't something that would send me into a spiral.

"Everybody!" Rachel stood up, tapping her knife against her glass. "I just want to thank you all for coming today. The fact that you've all taken the time out of your lives to share in the beginning of the rest of mine means more to me than words can even say."

"Here it comes." I whispered to Britt as I held my water glass high, and she shushed me.

"No, Santana, I'm not going to sing." She laughed. "Each person who is here today has had an impact on my relationship with my fiancée, and I'm grateful to you all for putting up with me in all the years that have led up to this. My dads, Carol, and Burt who has taken Finn to do something other than awkwardly sip tea, kept the two of us from marrying too young, from possibly destroying our futures in the process, but would have supported us, and still do support us every day. Shelby, you helped me become a star, but you reminded me to remember that love is important too. Kurt, I can't wait for my best gay to become my brother in law. You were with me every step, encouraging me after Finn and my terrible breakup, reminding me that sometimes love means letting someone go, but that you knew we'd end up together in the end. And Santana, you're the one who brought the love of my life back to me, and all these years later, have given me something to aspire to with how happy you, Brittany and my beautiful goddaughter are together. Thank you, all of you."

"That was the shortest speech she's ever given." I said while discreetly wiping more tears. "I think she gave a longer one when she thanked me for washing her dishes once when we used to live together."

"Satan, we can all see you getting teary!" Kurt shouted across the table, and I didn't miss the dirty look Brittany shot him. "Don't try to make fun of Rachel to cover it up!"

"Shut up, Lady Face. Crying at weddings, and the events before them, is totally allowed." I defended myself. "I'm just happy for Rachel and Finn."

"Yeah." Kurt cracked a grin. "Me too."

"Now, let's open presents." Leroy (I'd finally learned the difference between Rachel's dads!) said, before Kurt and I could bicker about something else.

Insistent upon Rachel wearing one of those ridiculous bow hats, Brittany snatched each out of her hands as soon as she unwrapped the gifts. Ever the dutiful maid of honor, I sat with my iPad, making a list of who gave what gift, and once again, I caught Brittany smiling at me over a simple gesture. When the gigantic stack of gifts (fine china, crystal goblets, unnecessary kitchen appliances, seriously, I was so glad Britt and I didn't have bridal showers) were finally unwrapped and several hundred pictures were taken of Rachel in her hat (and sash, Britt went all out) we were finally ready to have fun with her. I pulled her into the bathroom, and gestured for Britt to give the baby to my mom and grab the other Glee girls. As Rachel's oldest girlfriends, and the ones who'd actually taught her about sex, I felt that it was our responsibility to give her a little something extra for her honeymoon.

"As much as I never want to imagine anything about your sex life, or any weird straight sex, I would be a terrible maid of honor if I sent you on your honeymoon empty handed. And since you've explicitly prohibited a bachelorette party, you've left me no choice but to gather, in the bathroom of this somewhat pretentious place, the same girls who you came to for sex advice basically a lifetime ago."

"Oh my God, Santana." Rachel blushed, and lowered her head to look to see if anyone was in any of the stalls.

"Shut it, Berry." I laughed. "You knew this was going to happen."

"No I didn't! I thought you were done buying me gifts from the adult store after you left a wrapped box with a-" She lowered her voice to a whisper before continuing. "vibrator inside and a note that said 'I know you're into plastic men, thought this might be a good substitute. DO NOT USE WHEN I'M HOME. Hearing your hobbit moans might cause me to chop my own ears off.' after Brody and I broke up."

"You didn't!" Quinn gasped while Brittany laughed and Mercedes and Tina's jaws dropped,

"She did!" Rachel stood with her hands on her hips. "Then she asked me if I wanted her to invite you down for the weekend in case I wanted to try out the ladies."

"Santana!" Quinn shrieked, and sounded surprisingly like Rachel, apparently we were all capable of doing the Rachel Barbra Berry voice. "One. Time. Thing."

"Two times." I shot back and watched Brittany roll her eyes before laughing. I was glad that it had all happened so long ago, that even my wife could laugh about the fact that I'd slept with her best friend.

"You all are messed up!" Mercedes' eyes were wide with horror.

"Oh c'mon Wheezy, it's not like we didn't all date the same people in high school. I kind of would have felt for Finn though if all the girls he's ever been with have slept with each other."

"Santana!" I kind of felt like Britt with the way everyone kept yelling my name when I said something inappropriate. "I really think it must be some kind of bad luck for my maid of honor to talk about sleeping with my fiancée!"

"Babe, Rachel looks like she's about to have a heart attack, let's just give her the gifts." Britt grabbed my hand and kissed the palm, silently telling me not to ruin the day I'd worked so hard on by not being able to control my mouth, even if I was kidding.

"Wait, before we do that, can we just go back for a second? Quinn and Rachel slept together?" Tina looked like she saw a ghost.

"NO!" They shouted at the same time.

"I was going to say! I thought I knew everything."

"Yeah, we know Perez Hilton." I shook my head while smiling at Tina. I'd long forgiven her for being the one who'd told Brittany about Quinn and I. We'd all changed since high school, there were no hard feelings there, and honestly, it was much easier than having to tell Britt myself.

"She just thinks everyone is gay because she is." Rachel told Tina. "I'm surprised she hasn't tried to pair you two off yet."

"Aretha and Asian Persuasion? Not a chance. You and Quinn on the other hand have always given me some kind of vibe."

"And." Quinn cut in. "As we've discussed, your gaydar is shit."

Brittany finally was able to put a stop to the discussion, and with each gift we gave to Rachel, she turned a shade darker. Britt, of course, had the camera out, documenting the whole thing, and I was in hysterics at my friend's dismay. I actually thought she was going to pass out from embarrassment when she opened the edible body paint that we got for her, and my always inappropriate wife told her that she'd be happy to give Finn tips on the proper use if he wanted to call her. Even I felt bad for her after that, and had my skin been lighter, I would have matched her shade when Britt whispered in my ear 'you know I'm that good, it's only fair to spread my knowledge." Quinn hardly even noticed that happening, but Mercedes and Tina were just about on the floor laughing. Brittany gave me her most innocent look, asking if she went too far and I just nodded vigorously before stealing a kiss.

"Damn, we are missing out not being in New York!" Mercedes laughed, sucking her teeth. "This is too funny, all of it."

"It took us a while to get here." I answered honestly. "But we're all in a good place with each other."

"And I was the one who wanted to be close with them." Rachel shook her head, trying to hide the gifts from us at the bottom of her purse. "I think we're a little too close."

"Ew, Rachel!" I joked, always shutting her down when she said something that could even be remotely construed as sexual, despite my own teasing. "You and I will never be close like that."

"Thank God!" She threw her hands up in the air in mock celebration and her eyes shone with laugher.

"Congratulations, Rachel!" I said seriously, pulling Brittany close to me. "The whole point of this little bathroom meeting was for me to tell you that I'm thrilled you're joining Britt and I, and Quinn and her old husband in married life. Once again, I'll deny it if any of you tell anyone, but I can't wait for our daughter to have a tiny, or maybe not so tiny, baby of yours and Finn's as a friend."

After a few more minutes, we broke up the party in the bathroom, and went back outside so Rachel could start saying her goodbyes to everyone else. She thanked me about a hundred more times before she left, and I shooed her away, not feeling that there was any need for it. After Burt and Finn picked up Carol and Rachel, and I'd settled the bill, Britt and I dropped Mamí off at her hotel. With the baby sound asleep in the back seat, I drove home, with Britt tightly squeezing my right hand happily, neither of us needing to say anything. Our secret meeting in the bathroom was so reminiscent of senior year during  _West Side Story_. This time though, we were adults, I wasn't accusing Rachel of wanting my sloppy seconds, no one was angry over the fact that we were all kind of gross and had all shared at least one sexual partner (seriously, may the universe-or Snix- strike dead anyone who ever told Annie that both her mothers, her Aunt Quinn and her Aunt Mercedes all slept with Sam) we were just laughing and enjoying our shared ridiculousness (and luckily, no shared diseases!). It reminded me, once again just how happy I really was to have friends that I loved so much (even ones like Mercedes and Tina, who I rarely saw) in my life.


	61. Blindsided

In the two days that followed Rachel's bridal shower, I'd easily slipped back into the domestic routine that I'd perfected in the months prior. Wake up at 6:30 with Brittany, have breakfast (and for me, ridiculous amounts of coffee) together, feel bad for myself for the first five minutes after she left for work, spend the day singing, dancing, playing, laughing with Annie, write a little during her nap time, probably see (or hear from) either Rachel, Finn or one of the gays, cook dinner (or more likely, order takeout), spend the evening with my girls, put the baby to bed, have sweet lady sex with my wife, then go to bed and start the whole thing over the next day. I never thought I'd be one for that type of life, but I  _absolutely_  loved it, loved that allowed me to pretend like I was normal, loved that everything else disappeared when I wrapped myself in that safe bubble. That was my mistake, and it wasn't the first time I'd made one just like that. In reality, my life wasn't normal, not yet, and even though the shock that came was  _good_ , deep down, it took away that feeling of safety and security, of normalcy, and I wasn't sure I was capable of handling that.

Sometimes, once something is set in to motion, we forget that we are waiting for the outcome. Real life gets in the way, and even the biggest and scariest of thoughts get buried under the monotony of everyday life. I'd seen it happen to other people countless times, and I'd made fun of those people. How could anyone be so clueless that they forgot about the things that once defined every second of their existence? How could the monotony of everyday life even compare to the crushing weight of the  _big picture_? How could someone be blindsided by something they had once been so eagerly awaiting? But I'd realized, when it happened to me, that maybe it's like that old saying  _a watched pot never boils_ , as ridiculous as that sounds. There needed to be something else to pass the time, or else I would have made myself entirely crazy while waiting.

It was 4:47 on the Tuesday of the week that fell smack in the middle of January and February. Annie was in her crib for her afternoon nap, Brittany was on her way home from work, and my mother was coming to have dinner with us before she headed back to Lima early the next morning. I'd just put the spaghetti in a pot of boiling water and turned up the sauce so they'd finish at the same time when my phone rang. I frowned, not recognizing the 212 number that flashed on the screen, and figuring it was one of the many vendors Rachel had given my number to, in case they couldn't reach her while she was performing. I'd been given explicit instructions  _not_  to let those calls go to voicemail, and being the good maid of honor I was, I actually picked up.

"Hello?" I answered, trying my best not to sound exasperated with the eleventh call in less than a week. A number that was seriously causing me to question my decision to allow Rachel to make me the contact instead of Kurt.

"Santana Lopez-Pierce, please." The vaguely familiar clipped voice on the other end of the line requested.

"That would be me."

"Good evening, Santana. This is Detective Daniel Bricker, from the Midtown North Precinct." So  _that's_  why I'd recognized his voice. "I know you have a little one in the house, but do you have a moment to speak with me, or should I call back later on tonight?"

"No." I answered after a moment of processing the fact that he was on the phone, and then another of wishing Brittany was home, no matter why he was calling. "Now is fine, my daughter is sleeping and I'm just getting dinner ready."

"Okay. So, as you know, we've been refocusing our efforts on finding the person who attacked you, in light of the new information you've given us." I nodded, even though he couldn't see me, not really sure if I was supposed to say anything or not. "Like I told you the day you came in, the most likely scenario would be that we either found him fairly quickly with that description, or we'd never find him at all. I can't go into too much detail over the phone, but there is a possibility that the first scenario is coming true."

"You..." I felt like the air had been sucked out of my lungs, and I felt a prickling behind my eyes that I couldn't quite understand. "You found him?"

"There's a man in police custody in New Jersey for a separate crime. We need you to come in and take a look at a photo lineup." He voice was emotionless, clinical, and I struggled to breathe, struggled to sound even remotely normal.

"I...Okay...I..." The long forgotten burning on the skin of my throat started up again, and my tears began freely falling. "My Brittany...I mean, my wife will be home soon. What do I...?

"If you could come tonight." Detective Bricker answered, hearing that I couldn't get my questions out. "That would be good. It may not be him, you understand? But if it is, we'll need to you to identify him so we can make formal charges."

The detective spoke in quite a bit of legal jargon, but I wasn't even hearing him, I wasn't even asking all of the questions that were burning inside of my head. I had to go there as soon as I had Brittany to hold me up, I had to know if it was him, had to know if there really was going to be some kind of closure. Rationally, I understood that, but even as I agreed to go uptown, the irrational part of me wanted to go back in time, retreat back into the safety of my mind that had buried the idea of any of this going on.

I was shaking as I hung up the phone, and I left everything I had been doing and went into Annie's room. It was the only thing I could think to do, to pick up my sleeping child and sit in the rocking chair, to rock with some kind of purpose instead of curling into a fetal position and just rocking myself. Everything felt numb, except the gnawing, twisting feeling in my stomach as the tears fell onto the baby's fleece pajamas. She didn't stir, and I was grateful for that, because I really wasn't sure if I would even be mentally capable of taking care of her if she woke up.  _Just stay asleep mija_. I silently told her.  _Just stay in that peaceful, magical world in your head,_  if she stayed asleep, I could stay where I was, I could wait until I had the strength of my wife before I had to do anything else.

"Santana!" Brittany's shouts broke me from the emotionless trance I'd fallen into, and the baby woke up wailing as Britt burst into the room, carrying the smell of smoke with her. "Are you okay? Is Annie okay?"

"I'm..." My heart was racing as the smell fully assaulted my senses. Dinner, right, that's what that smell was. "I burned dinner."

"San." I could hear the quiver in Britt's voice as she took the baby from me, trying to calm her down, but clearly torn because she could see how much I needed her. "You're scaring me. What's wrong?"

"We need to go to the police station." I managed to choke out as Annie's cries slowed to whimpers. "They might have found him."

"Oh, honey." She cupped my cheek with her hand, understanding what I couldn't say, understanding that  _if_  it was him, this was good news. It was good news, but it was fucking terrifying. Understanding that the idea of having to face him was making me feel like someone had taken the broken vase that was my heart and smashed it again, just as the glue was starting to dry, that I didn't want to start that healing process all over.

Once Annie had completely calmed down, Brittany set her back in the crib and sat down beside me, pulling me into her arms. Just like she'd done to the baby, she massaged my scalp, whispered nonsense into my ear, let me feel her heart beating against mine. The baby babbled to herself in the crib, unknowingly doing her own part in helping me, and I closed my eyes, focusing on my breathing, trying to slow my pounding heart. Slowly, i told her what I knew, and she cradled me closer to her. When I'd just about steadied myself, just about prepared myself for the anguish that was to come, there was a knock at the door, causing goosebumps to rise on my skin, and I buried my face in Brittany's neck.

"Your mom." She said softly, but made no move to pull away from me to answer it.

"Right." I clung tightly to Britt, but knew I was going to need to pull myself together. And I would, I just needed another minute to be completely and utterly confused by my own head.

When I finally felt capable of standing, I nudged Brittany to let my mother in (who, I assumed, from the sound of our phones ringing, was trying to figure out where we were) and I went back into the kitchen. My first instinct was to wash the singed pots, to give my hands something to do. But I'd done more damage than I thought, a disgusting black peeling crust had formed on the bottoms, so I tossed them both in the trash, opened the kitchen window and rested my head against the faucet of the sink.  _You're okay, this could be what you were waiting for, just pull yourself together. You've worked for too long to let yourself slip now._

"Hi." Brittany said softy, wrapping her arms around me and pulling me up from my crouched state.

"Hi." I repeated and looked into her eyes, drawing strength from them.

"Your mom is going to stay with Annie. Let's go put our coats on." She coaxed, gently leading me into the living room.

" _Mi amor._ " My mother said softly, her voice unsure, before gently hugging me. " _Te amo, Santanita. Es mi luchador, todo será bien. Oremos esto finalamente terminará, pero no se olvide lo lejos que ha llegado. Nada puede tomar eso de ti._ "

" _Lo sé, Mamí. Gracias. Te amo también_." I let our hug linger normally than I normally would, and let her words sink in.  _Even if it's not over, you've come so far. Nothing can take that from you._ She was right, I knew it as well as she did, I was just trying to force it to sink in, trying to force myself from believing that my hard won emotional control was going to slip.

After pulling out of the hug, I crouched down beside where Annie was playing on the floor and picked her back up. Quietly, I pressed kisses all over her face and head, before pulling her close to my chest and hugging her goodbye. The look of beautiful, perfect innocence on her face, and then the way she tapped my cheek and smiled took some of the numbness out of my body. Before standing up, I whispered all of my love to her in Spanish, and then found myself back in Brittany's arms. It was snowing ( _again_ , it was really the snowiest winter I'd ever remembered) as Britt hailed a cab and slid inside, offering her hand to help me in. I followed her in, curling myself back into her as she slowly stroked my hair, pausing every few minutes to kiss me on my hairline. She knew what she was doing, she knew what I needed, something to bring back my feelings of security.

When we made it to the precinct, we didn't pause outside like the last time, we clamored immediately up the stairs, both of us knowing that the sooner we  _knew_ , the better it would be for me. Detective Bricker was waiting for us, and spoke only a few words before he and a young female officer ushered us into the same room we'd been in on our last visit. The folder he pulled out was different than the one he'd held the last time, through I'm sure the one that I knew contained a different set of terrifying pictures wasn't far away. Brittany's thumb moved in circles on my forearm, her silent way of reminding me to breathe as I waited, not knowing what to expect, not even knowing (beyond the occasional episode of  _Law and Order_ ) what exactly I should be expecting.

"Before we begin, let me turn on the tape recorder and explain the procedure to you." Detective Bricker started, flipping a switch and then turning the folder over on the table. "This is exactly like the lineups you've probably seen in popular culture, except that the people you see will be on paper, not physically here. I'm going to lay out nine different photos, and all you have to do is tell me if any of these nine men appear to be the one who attacked you. I won't say a word until you've told me who, if anyone, that person is."

"Okay." I answered, letting out all the air that had been held in my chest with that one word. "I'm ready."

Brittany squeezed my hand tightly under the table, still keeping the same promise she'd made to me almost two months earlier, the promise not to let me slip away. I wanted to look away as the two officers in front of us began laying photos ( _almost like head shots_ , I'd thought bitterly, like I was casting someone in the worst role of all time) across the steel table. I didn't speak, just let my eyes silently shift from one photo (all so strikingly similar) to the next, until they finally landed on number four. Number four with those cold grey eyes, his hair much shorter then it had been, his face more aged then I'd remembered, but him, undoubtedly  _him_. Before I could speak, I focused on my breathing, focused on keeping myself in control. My grip on Brittany tightened, and I could feel her bones creak under the strain, but she didn't pull away from the pressure, didn't even attempt to loosen her grip. If anything, she held me back tighter, knowing without my words that there was a picture of the man who had tried (and failed) to take everything away from me. Knowing the full implications of what his picture being there meant.

"Number four." I finally managed to choke out, not breaking my eyes away from the ones on paper, even as the tears began to sting.

"Are you positive?" Detective Bricker asked, not doubting, just confirming.

I nodded, feeling Brittany unconsciously shift so that she was closer to me and our shoulders were touching. There were very few things I'd ever been more sure of than the fact that the man I was still staring at was the same one who'd been haunting my nightmares for four years.

"He has a scar, almost in the shape of a checkmark, under his left earlobe." I said suddenly, realizing that on my last visit, in my hurried effort at description before I'd broken down, that I'd left that tiny marking out.

There was a flicker of  _something_  in both officers' eyes, and I knew that they knew it was there. Carefully, the woman (who'd introduced herself earlier, but I hadn't quite processed what her name was) began stacking the photos back up and putting them into the folder.  _He's in jail_ , my mind kept telling me, trying to make me understand that it was really true, and then begging me to ask the question I needed to know;  _why_? The words wouldn't form, and I turned to Brittany so she could see what I needed to know, so she could ask for me, and she nodded slightly, so many emotions filling her beautiful eyes.

"Detective Bricker." She started softly, almost afraid to say the words, almost afraid to hear the answer to the questions we needed asked, "You told my wife on the phone that he was in jail..."

"Ryan Davis is serving six years in Fairton Federal Correctional Institute in New Jersey for stalking and attempted rape. He took a plea bargain that got him such a short sentence." He said, his eyes carefully watching me. My stomach flipped and I gripped the table with my free hand while I heard Brittany exhale sharply. _I fuck who I want, just because you won't give it up, doesn't mean I won't take it_ , his words from that night reverberated between my ears and I wrenched myself up from the seat, the vomit already rising in my stomach.

"Bathroom." I managed, before Brittany hurried me out to the small, sterile toilet two doors down.

Dropping to my knees, I emptied the contents of my stomach as Brittany held my hair, rubbing my back, kissing me gently on my right shoulder and softly soothing me. Even after there was nothing left inside of me, I continued to retch, and Britt didn't let me go.  _Stalking and attempted rape_ , those words were terrifying, and yet they confirmed every conclusion I'd come to in the days after Halloween. It had always been that psycho's motive to attack me in some way, but the way it had come to fruition wasn't the way he'd ever planned. Oh, the irony, I'd been spared from being raped only to become a victim of attempted murder.

"I love you, I love you, I love you." I could hear Brittany whispering into my hair, and I leaned back into her, wiping my mouth on the toilet paper she was holding.

"We need to go back in there." My words felt small, I felt small. "I need to know what happens next."

"Okay. Here, lean on me, I've got you." She said, helping to lift me, lift my body that felt so heavy, up from the floor.

"I know you do." I told her, and she knew I meant more than just physically.

Slowly, we made our way back into the room and both the detective and his underling were still sitting there waiting for us. Before sitting back down, Brittany hugged me tightly and carefully wiped the tears from me eyes with the wrist of her sweater.  _You're a fighter,_  she whispered, echoing the words my mother had told me earlier, and I nodded. I was a fighter, and I could get through this, I could sit and listen, sit and learn about legal processes even when I felt like my heart was about to leap out of my chest.

"What happens now?" My head was dropped against Brittany's shoulder, feeling too heavy to stay up on it's own.

"The District Attorney will review the case and file the formal charges. There is actually a substantial amount more evidence then we initially believed. His face is on the camera both entering and leaving Private Eyes on the night you were attacked. He was smart enough not to use a credit card, but..."

He was still talking, and I was trying to listen, but everything in me felt emotionally drained. I could see Brittany, taking it all in and trying to keep it all straight in her head when she realized I wasn't focusing. Instead, I was concentrating on the shapes she was drawing against my thigh, the sound of her breathing so close to my ear, anything but the rushing of blood in my ears, the stinging (it wasn't burning, at least there was that) of the scars that marred my skin, and the scariest sound of all. The sound of my brain coming to the realization that as this progressed, I'd have to sit face to face with him in courtroom and listen to his denials, or worse, his justifications for why that man, why  _Ryan Davis_  tried to kill me.

For almost an hour, we (Brittany) listened to the detective talk, and I'd caught only a few things. The District Attorney would meet with me, with Finn, with the doctor's from the hospital, even with Dr. Collins while they built the case. I'd heard words like  _expedite, circumstantial, testimony_ , but I couldn't process the meanings. Brittany would explain what was said later, the DA would explain more, that I was sure, and I couldn't have been more ready when we were finally dismissed and exited the building into the dark, sleety night.

"I'll run you a bath." Brittany told me when we got home, after we'd managed to exchange just a few words to my mother and look in on Annie sleeping in her crib.

"Thank you." I sighed, stripping off my wet clothes, knowing I should go in and tell Mamí what had transpired, but not feeling capable of it.

Once I slipped into the tub, Brittany kneeled beside me and pressed her lips to my forehead, letting them linger there for a brief moment before standing back up and promising she'd come check on me in a few minutes. Leaving the door partially open, I heard her make her way into the living room and collapse on the couch beside me mother. Her voice was hushed as she told my mother what had happened, and I could hear gasps from my mother, and soft sobs from both of them. I wasn't sure what exactly transpired, but I heard Brittany pulling a blanket and pillow down from the closet, bidding my mother goodnight, and I assumed she was staying over. Given the history between them, I knew it would have been hard for my wife to ask for her help, but I also knew the look I'd seen before when she was torn between me and Annie. I couldn't deny that I'd need Brittany, maybe more than ever before while I waited for sleep to overtake me, and it wasn't fair to any of us for her to be so torn.

Brittany came back into the bathroom and held out a towel for me, wrapping me so lovingly in it before taking another and drying my hair. The physical exhaustion that the evening had taken on me just about forced me down on the bed. I lie there on my stomach, fully nude and Brittany pressed herself on top of me, using the heat of her body to continue soothing me. Thoughts swirled though my head, while Brittany's hand reached under my body to find my heart, to calm it down. In that moment, I let myself relax, let myself ignore the fears about the things that would come, and instead let myself focus on the strange lingering sense of hope that had settled in the darkest corner of my heart. Hope that after four years, closure hadn't just been set in motion, it was actually within my reach. Despite the long road that was still ahead, despite the fact that I'd have to wait to talk to Brittany before I fully understood what that path entailed, I could see the future much clearer knowing that the man who lived in my fears was locked up tightly somewhere in New Jersey, and that he'd be locked up for much longer once this was all over.


	62. Quicksand

I wasn't okay, despite how much I'd tried to convince myself otherwise while I lied in bed  _not sleeping_  after coming home from the precinct. It was like the weight I'd felt begin pressing on my body that night got heavier and heavier as the days progressed, and there was nothing I could do to make it feel any lighter. On the second night, the nightmares I hadn't seen in months fought their way back into my subconscious. It was a good thing Brittany had taken to sleeping with her body covering mine, because when I woke up screaming, she held me down and brought me back into reality. They weren't nightmares about the past anymore though, they were nightmares about a non-existent future, nightmares about  _Ryan Davis_ pulling a knife on me as I sat in the witness chair in a courtroom, and somehow, something I rationally knew could never happen was even more terrifying than something that already  _did_.

On the third evening after, I was sitting out on the fire escape, knees to my chest, wrapped in the old McKinley sweatshirt I'd stolen from Brittany before I'd left for Louisville, the same sweatshirt that had let me feel comforted on so many long, lonely nights. The clear night was freezing cold, but the winter air on my exposed face and hands actually let me feel  _something_ other than the horrible emotions that were running through my head. My mother hadn't gone back to Lima, instead, she'd stayed to  _help with Annie_ , as both she and Brittany told me, but I knew it was really to help babysit _me._  For the majority of those three days, I'd stayed in bed, head under the covers, only bringing it out and mumbling a quick  _gracias_ when she'd brought the baby in to snuggle with me. I would try to fake happiness for her, try to laugh with her little giggles, grin when she said  _mama,_ but I was more than struggling. When Annie wasn't with me, I'd take a bite or two of the food Mamí cooked for me, listen to the phone ring, but not answer it, and just wait for Britt to come home to hold me like she'd never let go. And all through the  _nothing_ I was doing, the scary thoughts would run through my head.

"Santana." Brittany's voice was sharp as she climbed out onto the balcony, jarring me from my thoughts. "What are you dong out here? It's like twenty degrees out."

"Nothing." I mumbled, not meeting her eyes.

She crouched down in front of me, wrapping her arms tightly around my folded body before using all her strength to pull me up. I didn't resist, I didn't even have the strength to. I shivered into her as she stood there holding me, and I actually realized how cold it truly was. Brittany pressed both of her warm hands against my face, testing the temperature, feeling how long I'd been outside (close to an hour) and she frowned. When I looked at her, I saw the circles under her eyes, saw her lower lids rimmed in red, saw that her beautiful blue irises were dull, and I felt a sharp sting of pain in my chest. She hadn't been sleeping either, how could she while she was holding me so tightly, afraid for how my night would be? So many memories came rushing back to me, memories of when she'd first come to New York, memories of when she'd try so hard to save me and it took so long for me to let her, memories that I really,  _really_ didn't want to relive.

"Come inside, please." She said, and I knew by her tone of voice that it wasn't a request.

She helped me back through the window, following me and slamming it shut, causing me to jump slightly. I stood there, not sure exactly what to do, and she moved in towards me, catching me in a bone crushing hug. I wasn't sure how long we stood there, but my arms were at my sides, not hugging back, just being engulfed by the woman I loved so much. I could hear my mother on the other side of our bedroom door, clanging pots in the kitchen, speaking in Spanish to her granddaughter, and I felt this painful disconnect from everything I cared about. He was winning again, as I allowed myself to remain in this state, and I squeezed my eyes shut in a fruitless effort to stop all of the fear.

"Shower." Brittany said into my ear, and I realized that I couldn't remember if I'd done so since taking to my bed. I was becoming something out of an anti-feminist Victorian novel, languid, weak, needing someone to do everything for me.

My wife, so tired in her own right, tugged both the sweatshirt and the tank top I wore under it up over my body, and I raised my arms to accommodate her efforts. Her hands ran over my chest and stomach, their warmth reminding me of just how deep the chill had settled into my body. Goosebumps raised in the wake of her touch, and she slid my sweatpants (had I even changed them at any point?) down to the floor. Letting go of me long enough to take off her own clothes, she then led me into the bathroom and turned on the shower, climbing inside with me. The water was lukewarm, but when I made a motion to turn up the heat, she caught my wrist and brought it to rest between our bodies.

"You're too cold." She said sadly. "Your body has to warm up slowly or you'll get sick. Just leave it for a few minutes."

"Okay." I responded, knowing she was right, and also knowing that even if she wasn't, I wouldn't have the strength to fight her on it.

"Look at me, Santana." Brittany ordered, and a strange sense of déjà vu rushed through me. My back was against the shower wall, and her hands were on my shoulders, holding me up, her eyes staring into mine. "I've made you promises, and I'm not keeping them."

"What?" I was confused, and scared about what promises she'd broken.

"I told you I'd never let you go, told you I wouldn't let you slip, and that's exactly what I've been doing. Every day that you refuse to get out of bed, every day that you don't say more than five words, I'm losing you to yourself. It has to stop."

"But Britt-"

"No." She cut me off, and I stared at her, watching the tears, mixed with the rushing water, run down her face. "Santana, I know you're hurting so much inside, that you're scared about what's going to happen, I can feel it all in my own heart for you. But I can't let you go back to how you used to be, you would never forgive me for that. You,  _we,_ have worked too damn hard for that. Please, you have to let me help you."

"I don't..." My head dropped, even after all this time, after all we'd been through, when I was at my most vulnerable, I still had difficulty expressing what I was feeling. "I don't know how you can."

"I talked to Dr. Collins today." Her voice was soft as she tilted my head back up to meet her eyes. "I'm so worried about you, San, worried that letting someone else do everything for you is going to prevent you from being okay again. You've hardly left our bed in three days, and I'm scared to go to work, scared to leave you alone, even if your mom is here. But Dr. C, he thinks she should go back to Lima, thinks that you and I need to spend this weekend together figuring out how we can make your life go back to as normal as possible. Because this is going to be a waiting game, and if I let you wait it out like this, I'm going to lose you. And I won't do that."

"How? How am I supposed to be normal?"

"You  _are_  normal." Her grip on my shoulders was tight and I blinked away the water that had fallen into my eyes. " _This_ is not normal, everything you've been through, everything you still have to go through,  _that_ is what isn't normal, isn't fair. But you, you're normal, if anything, you're more than normal, you're so incredibly special. Do you know what today is?"

I searched my brain for a minute, staring at the woman who'd always been so desperate to save me from the dark places in my mind, and I gasped, not believing that I'd forgotten. The déjà vu I'd felt a few moments earlier came rushing back, and I thought about the last time my back was against a wall, Brittany's hands on my shoulders, her tear filled eyes boring into mine, and me feeling so unbelievably broken. It had been a year, an entire year since I'd gotten drunk at Rachel's opening night, a year since I'd begged Brittany to help me not feel so scared any more, a  _whole fucking year_ since I'd let a bottle of tequila hide my problems from me. And in the three days I'd laid in bed feeling sorry for myself, I hadn't once thought about having a drink. Could it possibly be that even in spite of how awful I was feeling, the progress hadn't halted entirely?

"A year. I made it a year." There was a spark in my voice that wasn't there a few moments earlier, a strange sense of pride, like I'd beat one demon, why not another?

"You did. And I always knew you would. You're the strongest person I've ever known, San. I believe that anything is possible for you, and I  _know_ that there's nothing you can't beat. And I'm  _so proud_ to be standing beside you as you do it."

"Britt, I don't want to feel like this. I just want it all to fucking end already."

"I know. I know." She soothed, touching her fingertips to my throat. "So soon. We're going to be sitting in that courtroom, you're going to tell your story, and when it's all over, he'll be locked up for a long, long time. And you know what happens to you? You get to go home with your wife, to your incredible daughter, to your family and friends who love you so much. To everything  _he_ thought you didn't deserve, to everything people like  _him_ think that people like  _us_ don't deserve, to everything he tried to take away from you and  _failed._ Once it's all over,  _you_ are the one who wins,  _we_ are the ones who win. You, me, our daughter, and everything we want her to believe is right. He's an evil, disgusting, poor excuse for a man, and you, you're beautiful and good and so, so strong."

I watched Brittany for a minute, standing before me with the water dripping over her body, with the tears dripping from her eyes and I believed her. How could I not? Everything she'd always told me had been right, because she believed in  _me_ , so much more than I'd ever believed in myself. I hated that I needed so much reassurance, so much affirmation of my self-worth, but from Brittany, it never felt forced. I wanted to be pulled out of the hole I felt myself in, the hole that seemed to be filled with quicksand, threatening to suck me in deeper, and if anyone could help me escape from impending doom, it would be the woman who stood before me, pleading with those eyes for me to let her.

"What happens now? What do you think we're supposed to do?"

"Right now, we finish our shower and you finally get dressed. Then we have dinner with your mom, because she has cooked enough food to last until we're forty. Tomorrow morning she'll leave, and you and I will talk, talk about what the DA needs you to do, talk about what  _you_ need from me to get through this, and figure it all out, step by step."

"Okay." I nodded as I was saying it, earnest in my desire to do this, before softly pressing my lips to Brittany's, a seal on a promise.

After we finished our shower (and Britt felt like I'd sufficiently warmed up), Brittany was pulling clothes out of the drawers while I stood at the mirror brushing out the tangled mess of my hair. While I brushed through, I watched my wife and the surety of her moves, the steady confidence she had that we would all be okay. It was one of the many things that amazed me about her, the way she very rarely needed reassurance once she decided on something, the way she always seemed to figure out how to best help the people she loved (and not just me) and was very, very rarely wrong. For someone who was constantly second guessing themselves, I was so incredibly lucky that the love of my life was also the best possible partner for me. My heart leapt with that though, and when she caught me staring, she gave me a tiny, soft smile that I was happy to return.

"I'm sorry, Britt." I said quietly, looking her right in the eyes, not casting them down like I so often did when I felt shame. "I'm sorry for losing it, yet again."

"Oh, honey." Brittany dropped the clothes she was holding and quickly moved towards me, wrapping me in another hug. "You have nothing to be sorry for. You're scared, and I've made it really clear that no one ever gets to make you feel bad for feeling that way. And that includes you."

"I  _am_  scared, maybe more than I've ever been. And I'm not sure why. Realistically, I'm so much safer now than I've been in a long time. He's locked away, he'll be surrounded by police officers the next time I have to see him. This shouldn't be scary." My face was still pressed into her neck as I said the words, and she rubbed my back as I spoke them.

"It  _is_ scary. You've never dealt with that man when you were the one in control of the situation, and that shift in the power dynamic is enough to be terrifying in and of itself. It's another unknown that you have to deal with." I raised my eyebrow, silently asking if she'd somehow gone and got some kind of degree in psychology in the past three days. "Dr. Collins told me that when I spoke to him, I guess it makes a lot of sense."

"It does." I wasn't sure what else to say, words couldn't even express the gratitude I felt towards her, the awe I felt for the way she was taking control when I was incapable, the overwhelming feeling of love in my chest, a love that was even stronger than fear, a love that was so instrumental in helping me save myself over and over again. "I love you."

"I know." She said, understanding what I was feeling and couldn't find the words for. "Me too."

* * *

The next day, after Brittany and I had slept just a little bit more than we had in the nights prior, after we had said goodbye to my mother (who made us both promise that we'd call her right back to New York if we needed anything) and we'd had a very long talk between the two of us, we decided that the best way to start moving back towards some type of normalcy was to figure out exactly what we were up against. In avoiding phone calls, I'd missed a call from Katherine Goldman, the Assistant District Attorney, and several from Finn, saying she'd called him as well. I was surprised, when I called back to leave her a message that she was in the office on a Saturday (apparently she was hard at work on getting this all together as quickly as possible) and that she'd answered her own phone. Eager to speak to both Finn and I, she offered to meet with us that afternoon, and I quickly accepted, encouraged by my conversation with Brittany.

Finn and Rachel met us at the apartment, Rachel to stay with the baby, and Finn to accompany Brittany and I downtown to the meeting. After escaping from my tiny friend's ridiculously long embrace, I was glad to have her fiancé draw me to him, hugging me with a completely different sense of understanding. This was a major moment for him too, I knew, a way to put some of  _his_ lingering fears to bed, and with the exception of Brittany, there was no one else I'd rather have by my side through the ordeal that was to come. The car was silent as Dmitri drove the three of us down to Hogan Street, to meet the woman who was going to change the rest of our lives, and I couldn't felt but feel a tingling sense of anticipation.

"How are you doing?" Britt asked as we got out of the car, and she and Finn each stepped into position on either side of me.

"I'm doing." I answered honestly, it wasn't good or bad, I just  _was_. "What about you Finn?"

"Honestly? I'm afraid for the whole thing Santana. I'm afraid I'm going to see the guy and jump up on to the witness stand and try and kill him." He shook his head as he spoke, and I grabbed his hand and squeezed it.

"I'll cover you, Finn." Brittany responded, biting her lip so hard that I thought she would draw blood. "If I don't get there first."

"I love you guys both, I really do." I was overwhelmed with emotion at the thought of both of their love for me, so vastly different, but so strong that these two non-violent people were willing to kill someone who hurt me, even though they were smart enough, and inherently good enough, to never really go through with it. '"Maybe we should  _avoid_ saying things like that in front of Katherine. I have like a hundred bucks in my wallet and really don't think that will bail you out of jail."

The three of us walked together up the steps (seriously, there were always a ridiculous amount of steps up into anywhere important) and the lone security guard guided us through the metal detectors and directed us to the ADA's office. I was shocked when I saw the woman who greeted us, definitely under forty, possible shorter than Rachel Berry, and definitely not what I'd expected when I'd read about the tiger-like reputation she had.

"Not what you expected?" Katherine grinned, and I couldn't help but smile back. "Trust me, it works to my advantage, I catch just about all of the defendants that are up against me off guard. And I have a pretty good feeling that given Mr. Ryan Davis' misogynistic, egotistical behavior patterns, he's not going to know what hit him. That's why they gave me this case."

"Sounds good to me." I smiled, introducing myself, Brittany and Finn. I could tell already, even before she led us into her cluttered, half-painted office, that she and I would get along very well.

"Okay, so let me lay this all out for you." Kate (as she asked us to call her) started, once we all sat down and I felt safe with Brittany holding my right hand in her lap and Finn's hand on my left forearm. "There's no way in hell I want to offer this guy a plea bargain, and I need to know, Santana, that you're ready to help me nail him to the cross."

"I am." I said, surprised at how sure my words were, and I felt a squeeze on both sides of me, letting me know that they would be right there with me. "I'm scared, but I'm ready to face him, ready to let the judge and jury know just what a psycho he is."

"Good, now that we settled that, let's talk charges. We are trying to get an arraignment date by the end of the month, especially since he's already in jail, it's not going to do anyone any good to drag this out for an exceptionally long period of time." She clicked her pen and scrawled a few things down on the paper in front of her. "We're looking to get him on attempted murder, assault with a deadly weapon, stalking, which we are working on proving, and committing a hate crime. There will probably be some minor charges in there too, but those are the biggest ones."

"Wow." I exhaled sharply, this woman seriously wasted no time in getting down to business. Honestly though, I was glad that she was laying it all out there, glad that she was using more of her time working on the case than stepping lightly around telling me what was happening. "So that means...?"

"With the combined charges, and the fact that he's clearly a repeat offender, we're hoping to lock him up for the rest of his life. Let's put it this way, the majority of my job during this case is going to make the jury see that Ryan Davis is a threat to society, and has absolutely no business being on the streets."

I knew I was staring at Katherine as she spoke, but I couldn't help myself. The way she was already speaking made me feel incredibly confident that she was absolutely the right one to do this, absolutely the best person for this job. She spoke like she had a personal vendetta against the man who'd almost ended my life, and I absolutely loved that. It was slightly surreal to me that I was sitting here, listening as she talked about me testifying, about showing the jury that pictures I was afraid to see, the pictures I didn't want Brittany to see, because I knew that the amount of gore that was in them, the amount of gore Finn had  _seen_ was absolutely sickening. But it was happening, Ryan Davis was going to be arraigned, he was going to go to trial, and we wouldn't be the only ones who saw what a sick individual he was.

"Can I ask you something?" I questioned, after Kate finished telling Finn about how crucial his testimony would be, his testimony about the state he'd found me in, the testimony that would describe how this was more than just an attempted murder, it was a deeply personal  _attack_ against me, and against people like me as a whole.

"Of course you can, what do you want to know?"

"What is he like? I mean, besides a sicko." I was surprised by my own question, but it was something that was really burning in my mind. What is someone who is capable of doing something like that to me, capable of trying to rape another woman, capable of things he may not have ever been caught for, like when he's around the rest of the world?

"He's arrogant, that's for sure. From what I've heard from the DA in Jersey, he only took the plea bargain because they caught him on tape, but still didn't think he did anything all that wrong. He's from Texas, twenty-nine years old, moved to New York right out of high school and worked in big money real estate uptown."

"Okay." I nodded.

"There's going to be a lot more that we find out as we build the case, Santana, and given the nature of it-" Her eyes flicked over to Brittany too, and I understood that it wasn't just about me, it was about how he felt about  _things._ "It's going to be difficult for you to hear."

"Okay." I repeated, and it was Britt's turn to nod. "Listen, we've heard a lot of things in our lives, and if the ones we have to hear now mean that we're one step closer to putting this all behind us, then that's okay with me."

"Good. I just wanted you to be aware."

"And how, besides what you've heard from me, are you going to prove  _why_ he did what he did? Why he decided to  _slit my throat_ instead of rape me, like he almost did to that other girl?"

"There was a lot of hate paraphernalia in his apartment. And there were a bunch of news clippings about your attack. What we're waiting for now is the computer forensics report on his computer to get here, to help us prove the stalking charge."

"Fuck." I hissed. "Seriously, I can't believe that I didn't catch on. There were just so many skeevy guys in that club. And he didn't-"

"Look skeevy." Kate finished for me. "Yeah, that's how people like him get away with things like this for so long. Nobody expects it. It's in the news all the time, high ranking officials beat their wives and kids, high school and college jocks do terrible things to girls, to their teammates, and the whole town vouches for them so they get away with it, because no one expected it of them.

I could feel Finn shifting uncomfortably in his seat, and I grabbed his hand, squeezing it the way Brittany always did when I need assurance. It wasn't the same, wasn't even close to the same, the way he'd acted like a real ass to Kurt and to me in high school. It wasn't  _okay_ , but it wasn't like this, and I needed him to know that.

"Finn. You were always a good guy, even if you were a pretty big jackass. You've gotta stop comparing yourself to him. You were a dumb kid, this asshole is a grown man who apparently has an apartment full of shit devoted to hating people he won't even give himself the chance to know."

"I know, I just hate that I was ever anything like that."

"Yeah, well I sucked in high school too. But we're not there any more, and ended up being a great man, and an even better friend. That's what counts now."

"Thanks." He smiled weakly.

"You know I don't say anything I don't mean."

There was a lot more Kate needed to talk to us about, so we stayed another hour, listening to how she'd meet with Finn and I separately, how she'd help us prepare to testify, and I felt so much more confident in what was to come after talking to her. Brittany was right, as always, this was helping, a lot. A part of me still wanted to bury myself back under the covers the minute I walked in the door, but I wasn't going to let him win. That was the whole point of all of this anyway, wasn't it? To finally beat the last demon I had. When we got back to the apartment, Britt unlocked the door and I smiled at Rachel, sitting on the couch with Annie sleeping on her lap, looking at her with reverence in her eyes.

"How was she?" Britt asked as I slipped into the kitchen to pour a glass of water.

"Good, as always. We sang the entire Annie soundtrack, and she loved it. She might end up being the next broadway star among us." Rachel beamed, gently passing the sleeping baby to Finn, who'd sat down beside her.

"Don't push your luck, Berry." I smirked as I walked back in the room. It felt good to be in a remotely normal situation.

"You already know she's going to be talented. Why not embrace it?" Rachel countered.

"It's never going to happen." Brittany laughed, knowing how fiercely protective I was of that little girl.

"We can argue about this when she's thirty. When she's finally allowed to move out of our house." I told them all. "Anyway, I need a favor from you."

"Of course, what can I do?" Rachel asked, sounding as over eager as usual.

"Give me the most ridiculous, mind numbing wedding tasks you can think of. Tying ribbons on bags of rice or something equally unnecessary, anything."

"Well, I was-"

"Rachel Berry, so help me God-" I cut her off. "If you say one word about a curse or postponing, or anything to that extent, there will  _never_ be a wedding, because I  _will_ end you."

"But-"

"No, don't be a martyr. You're getting married in two weeks, everything is going to go on the way it's supposed to, and I'm not going to listen to another word about it."

Brittany came up behind me and wrapped her arms tightly around my waist, resting her head on my shoulder. We were going to do this, we weren't,  _I_ wasn't going to let the world crumble around me anymore, I was going to break the pull of the quicksand, was going to go on living, because I was lucky enough to be alive. It was the only way I was going to get through this, it was the only way the four other people (my tiny daughter included) sitting in my living room, the four other people who'd been affected the most by the disgusting thing that happened to me, were going to get through this.


	63. Faithfully

It was good, having the ridiculous distraction that was Finn and Rachel's wedding to keep my mind busy. Early on, after my most recent near mental breakdown, I'd realized that the best way to keep my mind from running away from me was to stay out of the apartment. So that's what Annie and I did for two weeks while Brittany was at work. We dropped off checks all over the city, picked up the rings, sat in Kurt's apartment helping to fold place cards and finalize seating arrangements, and it was good, all of it. That didn't mean I was entirely okay, didn't mean that I didn't still cry myself to sleep at night in Brittany's arms, that I didn't yell and rant in Dr. Collins' office, but I was  _better_  than I could have been, than I  _had_  been, that was for sure. Less than a week after my initial meeting with Kate, she called telling me that the arraignment had been scheduled for February 29th (it was a blessing, Brittany had said, we only had to be reminded of the date of the first time I'd see him again once every four years) and my mind put a big red circle around that date, like in old cartoon calendars, knowing that it would be a huge moment.

On the morning of the wedding, I was in our bedroom getting ready. I'd spend half the night (okay, maybe that's an exaggeration) on the phone with Rachel, Kurt, or Finn, hearing last minute details, settling last minute nerves, whatever they needed. Who would have thought that I would be the one they'd call for  _either_  of those things?  _Weird_. Finn had never gotten his epic bachelor party (and by epic, I probably just meant me, Brittany, maybe Puck and some strippers, obviously) but it wasn't for my lack of trying. Rachel acted really weird about it, and when I finally called to have a maid-of-honor to bride talk (instead of the  _yell at my friend for being a weirdo_  talk that I'd really wanted to have) she'd confessed her insecurities about it to me. Finn understood, and  _I_  probably understood better than anyone, how captive we can be held by our own self-doubt. It didn't mean she loved him or trusted him any less, I knew that, it was just that old thought patterns die hard. So we didn't have strippers, didn't even have a party, and that worked for them, just like things most people didn't understand worked for Brittany and me.

While I sat in the mirror in my purple bridesmaid dress, the dress that I'd okay'd months earlier, the dress that showed far more of the skin of my chest and neck than I'd been okay with in a long time, I felt my  _own_  insecurities rising up again. I stared at the scars, hating how they made me feel, hating that I was sure that everyone stared at them, and as much as I'd accepted them to the greatest extent I ever would, I could only convince myself so much that I was okay with them. So I touched them, wishing more than I thought I would, that I'd gone with the original dress Kurt had showed me, the one that wouldn't have caused the feelings that were running through me. Fruitlessly applying concealer over the entire area, I sighed and looked away from myself, catching the eyes of Brittany, who I hadn't realized was standing in the doorway, staring at me with all kinds of concern.

"Hey." I said quietly, and she gave me the soft smile that always made me want to run into her arms and let her hold me tightly forever.

"Hi." She walked over to me, taking the concealer out of my hands and grabbing both of mine with hers. "You look beautiful."

"I should have gone with the other dress."

"You  _hated_  the other dress. And no one notices the scars like you do, San. The only thing anyone will be thinking about when you stand up there to give your speech is how absolutely stunning you are, and how awesome you are at giving speeches."

"You don't notice them?"

"I notice them, because I know that you do, and because I think they're the most incredible part of your whole body. I've told you this before. When I look at you, I think that only survivors have scars, and only someone as tough as you can live through what you have. And knowing that, physically seeing what you've been through, only makes me love you more."

"Thanks, Britt."

"You don't need to thank me, because it's true. Look at this." She let go of one of my hands to grab her phone off the dresser. Flipping through her pictures, she pulled up one I'd never seen before. I was laying on our bed after taking a shower, holding Annie tight against me, probably only a few days after we'd brought her home from the hospital. Her head rested in the crook of my neck, and my lips had just the slightest curl of a smile. The marks were fully visible, and had I known Brittany had taken the picture, I probably would have made her erase it. But looking at it, seeing myself the way my wife saw me, made me feel like I was still beautiful. "That's the picture that comes up when you call me. It's my favorite, because I get to see all of you."

"Brittany." I looked up quickly, trying to keep the tears caused by what she said, what she'd showed me, at bay before they messed up the makeup I'd spend an hour doing. Instead of saying anything else, I gave her a deep kiss, glad I'd waited to put on lipstick, and wrapped my arms around her, silently thanking her for somehow always making me feel like no one else could.

"I bought you a fancy scarf, one that matches your dress, just in case. But think about what I said. I love you, sexy lady."

"Eh, I kind of like you too, maybe a little." I grinned and kissed her once more.

* * *

Knowing that I needed to get up to Central Park, to the Boathouse (because where else would Rachel Berry want to have her wedding, but one of the most well known reception halls in New York?) so early, and knowing that it wouldn't be fair to have Annie stuck there all day, my parents planned to pick Brittany up on their way, and I hailed a cab uptown. This day would be the ultimate distraction, I was sure of that. I would be so preoccupied with everything else around me that I'd hardly have time to think about myself, and I was more than grateful for that. I'd left the scarf with Britt, knowing that she'd tuck it in the diaper bag for me in case I needed it later, and pushed my curled hair over my shoulders. Kurt was the first to find me when I walked in (of  _course_  he was the first of us there, despite how early I'd arrived) and nearly dragged me to the bridal suite where Rachel was waiting. She looked like a nervous wreck, still wrapped in a silk robe with her hair and makeup all done up for the occasion. It didn't surprise me that there were already photographers snapping artsy type pictures of her shoes that had been discarded on the floor, endless arrangements of flowers, even her damn bare feet, and I shooed everyone, Kurt included, out of the room so I could do my job and snap her into the moment.

"Talk to me, Rachel." I demanded, sitting down on the couch beside her. "Why do you look like you're going to sing a Sondheim song and run out into the street frantically hailing a cab? Don't you think my witnessing that happen once was enough for a lifetime?"

"I'm not." She went to raise a hand to her face and I quickly smacked it down, not wanting her to ruin the makeup that had probably taken five people do to. "I'm not going to run, I swear. It's just, I don't know."

"Berry, you do know, and once again, I'll tell you that you know I'm going to get it out of you so you may as well just tell me now."

"It's just that I feel like this is it, everything I've ever wanted. I have the career I've always dreamed of, the man I've been in love with since I was sixteen, and it feels so surreal, Santana. What if I'm not good at being a wife? What if I screw this up? It's scary."

"I know." I said quietly, patting her on the knee. "Trust me, I know more than anyone else how you feel. I still think about it every day, I  _still_  worry that I'm not good enough for Britt. But Finn is a lot like her, he's the kind of guy that will remind you every single day why you are. Because he knows it, hell, even I know it. You're loyal, when you love someone, you love them with everything you have, and when you do anything, you do it the best. So why should this be any different?"

"Because it's Finn, because there's  _nothing_  in this world that's more important to me than he is, and that's terrifying." She admitted.

"Of course it's terrifying, but I have total faith in you."

"You do?"

"Obviously, Rachel. If I didn't, I wouldn't be sitting here telling you this, I wouldn't have spent the last two weeks doing wedding crap that was probably completely and ridiculously over the top unnecessary, I wouldn't still have paper cuts on my damn fingers from folding place cards. I don't put my fingers at risk for no reason, they're entirely too important to me."

"That's true. And Brittany would probably kill me if that was all for nothing." I'd managed to get a laugh out of her, and I smiled watching her do the same upwards eye flick that I'd done at home earlier to keep tears from falling. "God, there shouldn't even be makeup at weddings. I feel like it's all going to come off by the end of the day anyway."

"Tell me about it." I sucked my teeth, letting my own small laugh escape. "And you know, if you  _weren't_  nervous, I'd be concerned about you. Getting married isn't something to be taking lightly."

"It's not. And you're right. I'm ready to do this."

"Good. Now c'mon, Berry- and  _yes_ , I'm going to say that as many times as possible in the next few hours, since this is the last time I can really call you that- time to put your dress on."

Forty-five minutes and several near freak outs later, Rachel was in her dress, her dads and Carol had come into the room, and we'd been led out to the snowy overlook of the lake to take pictures. Considering it was February and my dress had no sleeves, I was just about cursing my friend's name as we stood out there shivering. But as I watched the excitement begin to replace her nerves, watched her belt out one Barbra Streisand song after another to keep herself feeling that way, watched her desire to see Finn's face as she walked down the aisle bubble up inside of her, I'd decided that freezing my ass off for close to an hour (and, knowing that I'd have to do it  _again_  with everyone once the vows were exchanged) was totally worth it. Sure, Brittany and I had opted for the simplest of weddings, our photos taken on iPhones, our first dance in the living room of our apartment, saying that our love mattered more than everything else, but I'd figured out that it was the same for a wedding that was the other extreme. Finn and Rachel loved each other, and for them (or Rachel, at least), sharing it with two hundred people and an entire staff was important, and that didn't lessen their feelings in the slightest.

Once we'd sufficiently warmed up and retouched our hair and makeup, I checked my text messages to see two from Britt with pictures of Annie in her little purple dress (because even though I'd flat out refused Rachel's pleas to have her in the wedding, I  _had_  agreed to let her wear a miniature version of my dress, for the sake of pictures with her godparents), and one from Kurt, telling me that we were five minutes to go time. Giving Rachel a final shake of the shoulders and a hug, I passed her to her dads, grabbed my flowers (irises for faith and lilies of the valley for the completeness of love, Rachel had obviously cleared her choices with Brittany and I), and made my way out to meet Kurt outside the doors to the room where the ceremony would be held. Linking arms with him, we were met with camera flashes (seriously, had she hired photographers to be  _everywhere_?) as the doors opened and we walked down the aisle to Finn, standing there with the biggest grin I'd ever seen on his face.

"Looking good, Finn." I whispered, reaching over to make a quick adjustment of his tie.

"Thanks." He said, a little louder than I'd spoken and I knew he meant for everything. For complimenting him, for forcing Rachel to pick a date, for dealing with her insanity even when I had so much going on in my own life, even for calling him during the human Ken doll fiasco all those years ago.

I nodded to him, letting him know that we both had a lot of things to thank each other for, and stepped back to look out on the guests who seemed to be waiting with bated breath for the bride to come in. Brittany was sitting in the second row, a purple flower in her hair to match the dresses of her two girls (seriously, it was really impossible for me to love her any more than I did with the adorable things she always came up with), with Annie clapping her hands in her lap, Quinn on one side of her, my parents on the other. She flashed me a quick smile, drawing a heart over her own chest, knowing that despite my excitement, I was nervous to be standing up there, nervous to have such an important job, and I touched two fingers over my own heart, returning the gesture. I smiled to myself as she tried to point me out to the baby and forced myself to tear my eyes away as the doors opened for the second time and everyone stood up and turned around to look as Rachel, flanked by her fathers, stepped out into the aisle. Pride swelled in my chest as I watched the confident steps she took towards us, and I was once again reminded of how far we'd all come. She nearly skipped as she reached us, and I quickly grabbed her bouquet so she could anchor herself to Finn.

"Ladies and gentlemen, we are gathered here today to join in matrimony Finn Christopher Hudson and Rachel Barbra Berry." The non-denominational minister started, and that was all it took for happy tears to start streaming down my face. Maybe it was ridiculous, but seeing these two people who meant the world to me marry their high school sweetheart just like I had caused my heart to twist with emotion.

As the two of them exchanged vows, I watched as Kurt broke down right across from me, watched as their parents wept in their seats, watched the tears spring to Brittany's eyes as she caught the love-filled look that I sent her, watched each person who'd seen these two fall in love and actually  _make it_  let their own tears fall. I never took myself as a wedding person, but all of that emotion, that _positive_  emotion, let me see just why people went so crazy over them. It was good, so good to let all the happiness run through my body, and I felt like I was breathing easier than I had in weeks. Maybe it would only last for the duration of the evening, but it was such an amazing feeling that I'd let myself soak up every minute of that before it was over.

"I do." Finn said, as the minister asked him one of life's most important questions, staring right into Rachel's eyes.

"I do." She answered the same, probably crying harder than the rest of us.

Rachel turned to me for Finn's wedding band and I could see the relief evident in her face. She'd done it, she'd finally made the commitment I knew she was capable of. As I passed the ring to her, I squeezed her hand (I was really becoming a very affectionate person) to let her know how proud I was of her. She nodded with a grin that mirrored her new husband's and turned back to him to finish the ceremony.

* * *

Long after Finn and Rachel were presented to the crowd as a married couple, after Brittany and I walked through the room greeting our friends, greeting people we didn't even know, after the jokes to Quinn (and her extremely bemused husband) about not trying to sleep with me just because we were at a wedding, and after dinner had been served and cleared, Britt had gone to the bar and ordered me a ginger ale in a champagne flute. Fighting the severe case of nerves that bundled in my chest, I quickly slid my chair back and tapped a coffee spoon on the glass, commanding the attention of everyone in the room.

"Good evening everyone." I announced, letting myself focus on Brittany's hand softly rubbing just above my knee, rather than the idea that people were staring at me for any other reason that that I was giving a toast. "For those of you that don't know me, I'm Santana Lopez-Pierce, and I'm lucky enough to be here for the wedding of these two incredible people. This first time I actually  _met_ Rachel, it was with two goals. The first, being to destroy the glee club that she cared so much about, and the second to keep her from ever being with Finn Hudson. Fast forward a few years later, and it turned out that I actually  _liked_  singing and dancing with them, and even stranger, I actually  _liked_  Rachel. I don't know if you're supposed to talk ago ex-boyfriends in these kind of things, but none of us ever really do things how we're supposed to, so I'm going to go ahead and say it. I had always thought that their's was just a silly high school relationship, didn't think they had the depth that I have with my  _own_  high school sweetheart."

I flicked my eyes down to Brittany and caught her smiling at me shyly. Her chin was resting on her hand, staring up and me with the pride that showed on her face whenever I started to say nice things and I almost lost my train of thought.

"But then I met the guy that Rachel started dating when she first came to New York, and I saw a change in my friend that I didn't like. It was then that I realized just how important Finn Hudson was in the story of Rachel Barbra Berry. As you would say, Rach, he's the James to your Barbra, and after watching you two together for so many years, I have to agree. Sometimes, you get unbelievably lucky and meet your soulmate before you even really know yourself, and you get to grow with them, become a better person with them by your side. That's what I've seen with Finn and Rachel, they've both grown into people who I'm proud to call my friends, they've grown from an insufferable face-sucking-at-the-lockers, singing semi-passive-aggressive-songs-back-and-forth couple into one that people actually look forward to being around." I looked up and could hear the laugher coming the loudest from Mr. Schu, who remembered as well as I did the time Rachel sang  _Gives You Hell_ and he borderline lost it on her. "Anyway, these two have both been there for me in more ways that I care to discuss, and watching them stand here today as a married couple means more to me that words can express. So congratulations Finn and Rachel, I look forward to sharing in all the happiness that comes with your future together. I love you both, and I love you even better together. To Finchel!" I finished, raising my glass higher.

Once everyone finished clapping, I managed to awkwardly sit back down and rest my head on Brittany's shoulder while Kurt gave his speech. Britt kissed me on me top of my head and snaked an arm around my waist, pulling me closer. Kurt had his share of beautiful things to say, and I really made an effort to listen instead of zone out into the wedding high I'd been on since arriving. But it was impossibly to pretend that the normalcy of the whole situation didn't feel incredibly good. We were seated at the head table, my mother had snatched Annie away, insisting that she take care of her so we could really enjoy ourselves, my best friends had just finally gotten married, and my own wife was holding me tightly. Even after being forced to take close to a billion pictures, after feeling incredibly nervous about my speech, about my exposed skin, about interacting with people, this was still an extremely good day.

"Now this." Kurt said, jarring me from my thoughts and pulling me up towards the stage at the front of the room. "Was all Santana's idea. She was impressed that Rachel didn't  _ask_  any of us to sing, but thought that the best man and the maid of honor singing for the first dance would be a great wedding gift."

"Finn, Rachel, this isn't the song you picked, but since Kurt is the only one who's ever been given permission to sing Barbra, and because we  _both_  thought this was a more fitting song, we're going to change it up." I laughed into the microphone I'd been handed. My eyes locked on Brittany, her hand resting over her heart, giving me a tiny nod of her head to encourage me after going seven years without singing in public.

_Highway run_  
Into the midnight sun  
Wheels go round and round  
You're on my mind

Kurt started singing, his own eyes switching back and forth between Blaine and the couple who'd just made their way onto the dance floor. I smiled, watching Finn and Rachel let the music take them back to the very beginning, letting it remind them of everything that had brought them to the point they'd come to, their first dance as husband and wife. Swallowing thickly, I held the microphone to my lips and closed my eyes, letting myself forget that this was something that scared me.

_Restless hearts_  
Sleep alone tonight  
Sending all my love  
Along the wire

I took a quick breath, catching Brittany's eyes again and remembering all of the reasons why I'd always loved this so much. It was a rush, being on stage, such an amazing rush and I couldn't believe how much I'd missed it. I was amazed as the other people, the friends that we'd just recently reconnected with, who'd all been there the first time Finn and Rachel had shocked us all with the emotional depth they'd poured into the song, and even Mr. Schu, who'd only heard it over a crappy cellphone connection, made a move to the outskirts of the dance floor and started singing the backup for us. Kurt looked at me, and I grinned at him, knowing how much this meant to everyone as we sang our part together.

_And they say that the road_  
Ain't no place to start a family  
Right down the line it's been you and me  
And loving a music man  
Ain't always what it's supposed to be

_I'm forever yours,  
Faithfully._

Kurt made the first move to leave the stage, as Finn and Rachel remained oblivious to the other couples who'd slowly joined in on the dance floor. They were whispering to each other, sharing quick kisses, and I was reminded of my own first wedding dance, how Brittany and I hardly danced, just held each other, and our friends were doing exactly the same thing. When I followed Kurt down, I made my way towards Brittany and she met me halfway, resting her hands on my hips and pulling me towards her to dance as I rested my free hand on the back of her neck and continued to sing. Gently, I nudged Rachel with my elbow, and she broke her intense connection with Finn to take the microphone from my hands. It was pressed between the two of them as I fully wrapped my arms around Britt and the newly wedded couple took over the singing.

_Always another show_  
Wondering where I am  
Lost without you  
And being apart ain't easy on this love affair  
Two strangers learn to fall in love again  
I get the joy of rediscovering you

Brittany had her forehead pressed against mine as she led me, and I snuck a peek over her shoulder to see that the rest of our friends were around us, still sort of humming to the music that was being played. I kissed Brittany softly, loving the feeling of being young and in love that the song incited, and she twirled the ends of my long hair and pulled me impossibly closer.

" _Oh girl, you stand by me_." I mumbled against her lips, sliding one hand off of her neck to cup her cheek, telling her how true that really was.

" _I'm forever yours_." She responded, deepening our kiss.

We spent the rest of the night dancing with each other, with everyone else, with Annie (before my parents, who'd already been watching for the majority of the party, insisted on taking her back to their hotel room for the night so Britt and I could be alone, I guess the electricity in our touches was more obvious than I'd thought) and I loved every minute of it. When Mike stole Brittany away to "get one dance with the best dancer he's ever known," Finn tapped me on the shoulder and asked for a dance with me. It was the first time I'd really had a moment to spend with him, and I accepted wholeheartedly.

"Congratulations, Finn." I smiled and playfully punched him on the shoulder. "You're now stuck with Rachel Berry-Hudson for the rest of your life."

"And I couldn't be happier."

"I know, and I'm just as happy for you."

"Thanks for singing tonight, I know that was hard for you."

"It was, for like the first ten seconds. But then it wasn't anymore, and I'm glad that I didn't waste the opportunity to render your wife speechless."

"I can't believe that was all you, I can't even believe you  _remembered_  that song when we'd both totally forgot about it."

"Please, Sue Sylvester yelled at Britt and I for two hours and made us do two hundred suicides for  _allowing that to happen_. My body  _still_  hasn't recovered from it. But that's when she knew that you two were unstoppable, even if she made us keep trying to tear you apart to destroy the glee club."

Finn laughed and spun me around as the band played  _Sweet Caroline_ , his own dance skills having improved exponentially since high school. I knew there was something else he wanted to say, but I let him come to it on his own instead of forcing it out ( _that_  was new for me). When he finally met my eyes, I smiled and nodded, encouraging him to speak.

"We'll be back from Hawaii on the 28th." He blurted out quickly.

"I know." I said quietly, understanding his concern.

"You're gonna be okay?"

"I am. Don't even think about it while you're gone, okay? I want you to have an awesome time, and I  _know_  you will, because the girls and I took care of that." I winked.

"Oh, um..." Finn was blushing furiously and I cut him a little slack,

"Just have fun. You'll be there with me on the 29th, and I appreciate even that. You really are the best, Finn, and I'm so happy that you got your happy ending."

"Me too. And I'm glad you got yours, even if it's taking longer than you like until you're able to really enjoy it."

"I know, and I know that we'll all enjoy it together soon enough. And some day we'll all be sitting around watching a tiny version of Rachel forcing all the rest of our kids to put on shows, and we're going to smile and know that it was all worth it."

"Yeah, I like that idea."

We danced for another song, until Brittany and Rachel both cut back in. I let my wife pull me into her again, and I snuggled close, thinking about how good the future would be, once everything else was behind us. I thought about our friends, the babies, the simple life that we'd all fought to get away from in Lima, but that we all still craved in some distant future. And we just danced, letting the world escape from us as Mercedes took over the microphone and sang Etta James. We danced until I felt my eyes closing against Brittany's chest, lulled by the feeling of peace that my conversation with Finn, coupled with the security of being in Britt's arms brought me. We danced until Britt pressed her lips against my ear and whispered softly into it,  _c'mon, you've looked so insanely hot all day, I need to get you home_. And then we went back to our apartment, to our bed, and did an entirely different kind of dance, one that brought me even higher than I'd felt at the wedding, and I fell asleep tangled in Brittany,  _not_  crying, for the first time in too many nights.


	64. Dark Places

Not to beat a dead horse (which Brittany hates when I say) with the cartoon calendar metaphors, but the week and a half between the wedding and D-Day seemed to pass in a flurry of pages ripping off and flying away. I was glad that it hadn't happened to the other extreme, days crawling by at an agonizingly slow pace, the racing time was better, easier, for me to handle, and when I opened my eyes on February 29th, the strongest of the emotions that coursed through my body was  _relief._ Of course, there was the underlying terror, the anxiety, the sadness, but I  _let myself_ become overwhelmed with relief, because I was trying to be more positive in my thought processes. Brittany clung tightly to me in her sleep, as much for her own sake as for mine, and when I heard Annie start to whimper over the baby monitor, I kissed Britt gently between the eyes and untangled myself from her embrace.

Walking into my daughter's room, I flicked off the baby monitor and pulled up the blinds to allow the early morning sunshine to fill the small space. Peeking at me through the slats in the crib, Annie stopped whimpering and happily cried out a string of unintelligible syllables, before finishing with  _mama_. I couldn't help but smile as I reached down to pick her up, quickly changing her wet diaper before bringing her to the glider to rock with her, talk to her, sing to her. I glanced over at the clock, and was glad to see that we had a half hour before she'd be hungry, before I'd have to wake Britt from whatever fitful sleep she was in so she could nurse her. It was something my wife was adamant about, because she had to pump while she was at work, that every day, she would nurse for Annie's first and last feedings, no pumping, no bottles, no matter what. But until then, Brittany could sleep, and I could have some baby time before we'd have to leave her with Quinn for the day, before I'd have to face every fear that ran deep inside of me.

" _Buenos dias, mi amor._ Aunt Quinn is going to come stay with you today while Mama and I go and change our lives." Maybe it was weird that I talked to the baby about things like this, but every moment was a life lesson, and explaining things to Annie, breaking them down and simplifying them, made it so much easier for me to process it all. "When I was little, and your  _abuelo_ was teaching me to ride my bike, he made me get back on right away, every time I fell off. When I got in my first car accident, he made me drive his car home from the police station, so I wouldn't learn to be afraid of driving. Grammy used to tell Mama and Aunt Liz that they had to get back on the horse that threw them, and I guess that's what  _abuelo_ was teaching me too, so that's what I'm going to do today, _mija._ "

Annie was sitting on my lap, facing me, looking up with her bright blue eyes, and I bent my head down to kiss her. She reached for my fingers and wrapped her whole hand around the pinky and ring finger of my left hand and laughed, the sunlight reflecting on her from the stones of my engagement ring. I loved it, more than anything when this beautiful child laughed for no apparent reason, that a simple sound could make the remnants of fear, doubt, and insecurity fade away, if only for a few minutes. When she was older, when she could truly understand what had happened, Brittany and I would explain to her what life was like here when she was a baby, that we'd done an impossibly tiny part in changing the world, of  _ridding_ the world of  _one_ person who didn't accept the beautiful life that we lived. That was a strange feeling for me, that in it's own small way, this was bigger than me, bigger than any of us.

"It's been a long road for me, baby girl, a long, dark, scary road that brought me to today. And I didn't listen, couldn't listen, to what I'd always been taught. Couldn't get back up on the horse. But today, I'll finally face my biggest fear, and when I come home, I'll see you, and no matter how broken and scared I feel, I'll remember that there are so many reasons why I had to do it. So please, I know you don't understand any of this, but bear with me while I work on it. I don't know how long this is going to take, I don't know how much time will pass before I feel better when it's finally over, but once I do, I promise you things will be good here. You know, I love you and Mama more than anyone else in the whole world, and what I want most is to be the best I can be for you both. I want to be able to tell you honestly, when you're older, that facing your fears makes everything better, I want to be able to tell you that the world is a good place, I want to be able to walk in the street with you swinging in between Mama and me and not be looking over my shoulder, afraid of what someone is going to say, what someone is going to do. I want  _so_ much for your life, for  _our_  life, and I just need to be scared a little bit longer so I can get to that point."

I felt a tickle in my throat as I spoke, but I didn't want to cry. There would be enough tears as the day progressed, and all I wanted in that moment was to be with my daughter and be happy. I rocked her, humming to her, just watching her motions, watching how much bigger and stronger she'd become since the night she'd come into the world. I thought about how, emotionally,  _I_ had become so much bigger and stronger since that night. We were growing together, all three of us, and that was a good feeling, one I needed to hold on to so I could handle all the  _bad_ pulled my fingers into her mouth, gumming them (because that one tooth, the one I knew was coming soon, hadn't quite broken through yet) and I knew she was starting to get hungry. I reached over and turned the monitor back on, knowing Brittany's absolute favorite way to wake up in the morning, and I sang.

_Five little ducks went out one day_

_Over the hills and far away_

_Mamí duck said: Quack, Quack, Quack, Quack_

_And only four little ducks came back_

Laughing with the song, Annie clapped her hands and shrieked. I wasn't sure if it was because she was naturally predisposed to have good rhythm, or because we'd been going to the ridiculous music class that Kurt signed her up for at Christmas, but clapping along to music was a new development that I couldn't get enough of. I kept singing, knowing Britt could hear us and was probably waking up. After two little ducks had gone out, she walked in the room wearing just a long t-shirt, and I slid over to make room for her. Joining us in the glider, one leg hooked around mine, I passed Annie over to her and she started to eat as Britt gave me a good morning kiss and sang the last verse.

_One little duck went out one day_

_Over the hills and far away_

_Mama duck said: Quack, Quack, Quack, Quack_

_And all her five little ducks came back_

"How are you holding up this morning?" Britt asked, breaking her gaze from Annie.

"I'm holding up. It still feels unreal Britt. Sometimes I forget that it's not all some awful nightmare, like he's some movie character that can't come to life. I know it's going to hit me hard when I see him."

"I know. But we're gonna get you through it, I promise you. And maybe once you see him, even though it could be months before this is over, you can still get a little peace."

"That's what I hope. I really don't want to slip again. I hate the dark places in my mind." I sighed, resting my head on Britt's shoulder so I could watch the baby.

"They're getting smaller though, right?"

"Yeah. They are. It's like when you kiss me, when you look at me like the whole world exists in my eyes, when Annie falls asleep on my chest, when I can feel her heart beating against mine, the light keeps shining in. And maybe when this is all over, the dark will be gone for good."

* * *

It was the strangest feeling, standing in the lobby outside of the courtroom on Pearl Street just waiting. I was wearing low black pumps and a belted black dress that showed just enough of the scarring on my chest. Even though there would be no jury there, no one in the room but just us, the judge and  _him_ , Kate wanted me to prepare for what was to come, wanted me to be dressed the way I would as the trial progressed. I'd convinced my parents not to come, convinced them that I'd need them much more when the case went to actual trial, not when we'd be finished in under an hour and then go back to playing the waiting game. So it was just Brittany, Finn, Rachel and I, awkwardly following Kate around like ducks in the pond.  _All the ducks come back safe at the end of the song_ , I reminded myself. I stood shifting my weight from one foot to the other, biting my nails, letting myself feel nothing but the pressure of Brittany's hand on my lower back. This was it, the hour the monster came to life, and all the calm I'd felt as I sat in Annie's bedroom in the morning had gone out the window.

"It's time to go inside." Kate said simply, knowing that I wouldn't have processed anything else she told me while we waited there.

The court officer led us inside, and Kate directed us to the benches behind where she would sit. When I sat down and crossed my legs, Brittany crossed hers opposite, letting our ankles hook together as she secured one arm around my waist, and held my hand tightly in her lap with her free one. We almost ceased to exist as separate beings, and that's what I needed. Finn settled himself on my other side, covering my shoulder entirely with his hand and I sat focusing on my breathing, focusing on keeping my heart from pounding out of my chest, waiting for the moment to come. There was nothing more anyone could do for me, and they knew better than to try. So much was happening in my head, and they would be ready to pick up the pieces for me if they needed to. My eyes flashed over to the table opposite Kate's, and I caught a glimpse of the other attorney, a short, well dressed, balding man, the man who would defend the animal who'd be joining us any moment.

"All rise for the Honorable Judge Michael Blackwell." The court officer announced, and we did.

After we'd sat back down and I resumed my previous position, I heard the door open behind us and I was frozen in place. So badly, I wanted to turn around and look, wanted to meet the eyes of the man who'd tried to destroy me, but I couldn't. Unconsciously, I squeezed my eyes shut and Brittany gave me a brief moment's reprieve before whispering in my ear, gently encouraging me to open them back up. When I finally was able to force myself to pry them open, Ryan Davis was three feet in front of me, hands cuffed behind his back, still dressed in a prison jumpsuit. I fought with everything that was in me to keep my eyes open, willed myself to be strong, begged God and the universe to not let the blinding pain that began to course through me swallow me whole.

When he finally reached the table where his lawyer sat, I felt all of the air leave my body as he turned and looked straight at me. Fear shot through my heart as those cold grey eyes pierced me. Quickly, before anyone could tell him to face forward, before he was cuffed to the table, he looked me up and down, pausing on my scars, before doing the same to Brittany. I didn't feel her hands hold me tighter, probably tight enough to break bones, I didn't feel Finn shift closer to me, ready to cover my body with his to stop the stare, but both things happened in the short seconds that Ryan Davis' eyes were on me. They may have been holding on to me to keep me from fleeing the room, or they may have been using me as an anchor to keep themselves from lunging at him, I wasn't sure, and it really didn't even matter. White, hot  _something_ overcame me and I clasped my free hand over my throat, swallowing the bile that couldn't seem to stop from rising up inside of me. I wanted to run, wanted to close my eyes and disappear, but I didn't. I kept myself strong, my eyes trained on the man who tried to take everything away from me, long after  _his_  eyes were turned away from me, long after Kate began speaking rapidly to the judge.

"He can't hurt you." Brittany whispered as she drew our clasped hands over her heart, her thumb traced over the bones in mine. I nodded, knowing that technically it was true, but also knowing that the twisting agony in my chest  _was_ him causing pain.

There wasn't any great oration on what he had done, no hurried defenses, that would all come once the trial date was set, once the jury that would determine not only  _his_ fate, but quite possibly  _my_ mental stability, had been chosen. All that would happen now was that the charges would be read, he would enter his pleas and I would leave. Althought the feeling of his eyes burning into me still fresh on my skin, I was still breathing, I was still existing, and shockingly, I wasn't even allowing myself to cry.

"On the charge of first degree attempted homicide, how do you plead?" The judge asked, and that's when I felt a single tear slip out of my squinted eyes.

"Not guilty." Ryan Davis answered, the same cocky, arrogant tone of voice that he'd spoken to me with so many years prior.

I couldn't even hear the other charges being read, the sound of the blood rushing in my ears was too loud. I was a lot of things, I  _had been_  a lot of things, but a liar was never one of them. Not five minutes earlier, this same being had sized me up, looking at the damage he'd done to my skin with what I assumed to be a sick sense of pride, even if he hadn't succeeded in ending my life, he  _had_ marked me for what he believed me to be. And then he'd turned to the judge, sworn a solemn oath and  _fucking lied._ I don't know why I'd expected any different, why I'd expected the man who'd grabbed a small girl on the street and used all his brute force to cut the life out of her body to suddenly become a pillar of morality, to suddenly hold himself accountable for his actions, but I  _did_ , I really, truly expected him to tell the truth. And I couldn't have been more naive in believing that.

_Not guilty._

_Not guilty._

_Not guilty._

With each subsequent utterance of those words, they became less painful. The first cut is the deepest, right? Everyone knew he'd already had his share of first cuts, much deeper ones than  _this,_ and I couldn't let myself replay every moment of  _why_ he was so obviously  _not_ not guilty every time he spoke. It would be too much, too hard, and if I went there, I would never make it out of my own head alive. Kate had warned me that this wasn't going to be easy, and I had promised myself that I would be prepared for more hardship, so I  _had_ to be. The judge was speaking to Kate and the other attorney, and I tried to tune back in but couldn't. This time, I knew that Finn and Brittany weren't listening either, but I stole a glance at Rachel, her hand gripping tightly on Finn's thigh and she gave me a small nod, knowing that I needed her to be the one that took it all in.

The precious minutes that passed seemed like a blur, and before I could process it, the court officer was back at Ryan Davis' side, not so gently forcing him upward and towards the door. The entire time, his eyes remained locked on mine, quite the opposite of the downcast eyes, shameful criminals that if seen in the movies. This time, I let the fire in my own eyes burn back into him, letting him see the resolve there, letting him remember that he hadn't taken me down the first time we'd met, and he wouldn't this time either. In our seconds long stare down, I let so many words that Brittany had said to me in the past months run through my head;  _beautiful, strong, fighter._ They kept the ugly ones this man had spoken to me out of my head, and I didn't take my eyes off him, didn't let myself break until the door clicked shut behind him and I buried my head in my hands.

It took me some time to regain my composure as Brittany helped me to my feet, shaking off Finn's offers to help her. Just because I'd promised myself to be strong didn't mean that I couldn't give myself a few minutes to just let myself feel the magnitude of what had happened. I'd come face to face with Ryan Davis, not just a face in my head, not just a face in a photograph, and I didn't let myself crumble. Burying my face in Britt's neck, I breathed in her scent as our arms remained tightly wrapped around each other, keeping the light shining in those dark places. Finn was speaking lowly to Kate, words I couldn't hear as I kept myself in my protective Brittany bubble. When I was finally able to show my face again, my eyes were dry and I took the water that my wife was urging me to drink, sipping slowly before I allowed myself to speak.

"Well, I guess that's that." I tried to force a laugh, and it sort of sounded like I was choking.

"There is a lot we've found, Santana." Kate spoke, confidence oozing in her voice. "Things that we'll talk about in my office later this week. I never expected a guilty plea, especially since we weren't offering him anything for it. We don't need him to admit to it, he'll be taken down with or without help. Go home, get some rest. You were great today."

"She was, right?" Brittany sounded proud, still rubbing my lower back.

"I didn't do anything. I didn't  _have_ to do anything."

"I know, but you kept yourself together in there. Do you know how many people completely lose it when confronted with that, and rightfully so? This was a big moment for you, and I can tell that you're ready for everything that's coming."

"Thanks. For saying that, I mean. I don't want to do anything to screw this all up."

"You won't, you'll be so well prepared by the time you actually have to  _do_ anything that you'll be my dream witness."

* * *

When Dmitri dropped us off outside the apartment building and both Brittany and I assured Finn and Rachel that we would be okay, I squeezed Britt again out on the sidewalk before making our way upstairs. Annie was on her stomach on the floor, still not crawling, but getting so much closer as she reached out to grab one of her stacking cups. Catching me off guard, Quinn threw her arms around me, giving me the most genuine hug I'd ever felt from her. From the first moment I'd seen her in the hospital, I'd always felt a little sick to my stomach thinking that she pitied me, but there was no pity in that hug, just a sense of unwavering support and when I pulled away, I nodded my thanks to her, incapable to putting that into words.

Once Quinn was gone (I appreciated so much that she left quickly, without asking too many questions), Brittany called to order sushi and I settled myself, half lying on the couch with the baby. I knew that I needed to talk to Britt, that I  _wanted_ to talk to her about everything that I was feeling, but I was glad to have just a few precious moments to hold my daughter just a little bit closer to me while I watched my wife standing at the counter, the end of a pen between her lips as she ordered dinner. It was one of those moments that I'd told Brittany about earlier in the day, the impossibly simple moments where I could really feel the light shining in. The moments where I just felt like Santana the wife, the mother, the woman who could enjoy this beautiful domestic bliss with her family. I didn't have to be Santana the survivor, the strong one, the ready one. Britt hung up the phone, smiling towards us, and I beckoned for her to join us. Wedging herself in the space between my body and the back of the couch, she grabbed one of Annie's hands and I moved my hand up and down the back of that same wrist.

"I love you." I said quietly, and she pressed a kiss on my temple.

"And I love you. Kate is right, you know, you were amazing in there today. I'm so proud of you, Santana."

"When I saw him, everything in me wanted to run, scream, and cry, all of the things I've done every time I've so much as thought about him. But then this other part rose up inside of me, this part that wanted, no,  _needed_ to prove that he had no control over me, that he was the big man for one night, and that was it. And once I could do that, it didn't feel so scary anymore."

"He wasn't larger than life." She nodded, knowingly.

"Exactly. And I feel some peace, like you told me I would.I think all the time I spent building him up in my head made me feel like a mythological beast was going to walk in the room. But he was just this pathetic, loser guy who I probably would have verbally tore to shreds back in high school, and he was chained to the freaking table. It just feels good, I don't know, like now it's my turn to have the upper hand."

"And you deserve that upper hand, after everything you've gone through."

"Yeah." I sighed. "I do. Don't let me forget this, this way I feel right now, okay?"

"I won't." She promised. "As long as you don't forget that you probably will feel scared again, and  _that_ is okay. But I'll remind you every time of what you told me tonight."

The three of us lay there on the couch for a while, and Brittany and I dropped the conversation in favor of taking turns playing peek-a-boo with Annie. I swear, Brittany laughed harder than the baby, and their combined giggles gave me butterflies in my stomach. My mind wandered a little bit after dinner came, which was probably no surprise given the events of the day. I thought of Ryan Davis, locked up in his jail cell, already paying a penance before it came time to pay the one for what he'd done to me. He was probably eating bread and butter (or whatever they feed you in prison, I don't know) in a room that smelled like piss, while I was being fed bites of sushi by my wife listening to our baby's laughter. I'd go to bed in the arms of the woman I loved, while he'd sleep on a cot surrounded by noise. There were so many things that I'd get that he wouldn't, and in so many ways, it felt like even before this was over, I was already the one winning.

 


	65. Taking Back Control

Apparently, according to Dr. Collins and every victim's advocacy website (which, I'd started compulsively reading because I wasn't sure  _how_ to feel after the arraignment) the entire point of confronting an attacker is to take back control of the situation. After learning that, I really began to put in perspective just how out of control my life had become since the night that changed everything. It was like I existed in this world of extremes, extreme fear, extreme anger, some bouts of extreme happiness since Brittany came back into my life, but not just simply taking each thing as it came. It was something I hadn't known that I wanted, but I really did, probably more than anything, to live a life that I considered  _normal._ Although the trial wasn't set to begin until the first week of April (and that was  _expedited_ , I couldn't imagine how long I would have waited if it  _wasn't_ ), two days after my re-encounter with the man who'd tried to take control, I decided that I wasn't waiting any longer.

The first promise I'd made to myself was that no matter what happened, I wasn't letting him take it back. The control was mine, and I wanted, no,  _needed_ it to stay that way. Almost immediately, that was challenged for me when I met with Kate and she told me  _why_ she felt a victory was almost guaranteed. After obtaining Ryan Davis' computer hard drive from the police in New Jersey the DA's office had found  _hundreds_ of creepy surveillance type pictures of me, of the places I used to hang out, even of my friends. Their further research into his search engine history revealed that he'd viewed videos of me (both of Glee performances, and two others that I didn't even want to think about) from high school and that he'd gone to the opening night of Rachel's off-broadway production of _Into the Woods_   _three months_ before the attack. That night, I came home and sobbed in Brittany's arms for hours, unable to believe how much he'd known about me before that night, swearing that I couldn't do it, swearing that everything was better before I'd gone and confronted things. The next morning though, I managed to talk myself down, managed to realize that it was in the  _past_ , nothing could change it, and all I could do at this point was accept that knowing those things brought me one step closer to locking that horrible piece of my life away forever.

Needing something to help me clear my mind during the waiting time that the next month would bring, I opted to go back to running. It had helped in the past, even when things were at their darkest for me, and I figured it would be even more beneficial when I was actively using it as a coping mechanism. As the winter began to lose it's chill in the first weeks of March, I stored the very expensive baby stroller, that one that had  _still_ never been taken out of the box, at Finn and Rachel's for  _someone_ (probably never any Lopez-Pierce children, since we seemed to be stroller-averse) to use eventually, and went to Buy Buy Baby to pick up a jogging stroller. Bundling Annie in an excess of clothing and blankets, we went down to the path along the river each morning, and if her laughter was any indication, she enjoyed our workouts as much as I did.

On the second Friday of March, after doing five miles up and down the East River, the baby was sound asleep in the stroller and I decided to surprise Brittany with lunch at work. Stopping at Lenny's for sandwiches, I maneuvered a sound asleep Annie in the stroller into the tiny elevator (one of the many reasons I  _was_  anti-stroller) and made my way down the hall to the room Britt usually danced in. Going into the dance studio to meet Britt was one of my favorite things in the world. It was like seeing everything I'd always believed about the girl I loved brought to life. Dancers could be so incredibly catty, but not at her studio, and especially not when it came to Brittany. The students were enamored with her (and told me as much, whenever they recognized me from the pictures that she kept around), and the teachers, even the ones who'd been there so much longer than Brittany, had the utmost respect for her dedication to perfection, the fact that she'd been promoted so quickly to choreographer, and especially her raw talent. It's all I'd ever wanted for her, to be loved and respected for who she  _was_ , not who anyone else expected her to become, and I walked through the studio every single time feeling extremely proud to be her wife. And beyond that, seeing her there, working, building her dream, gave me hope about the life we were building  _together_ , the life I felt like we were finally easing into.

"Hey!" Brittany called out to me, smiling, but not stopping the dance she was working on. I could tell by her face that she was intently involved, and wouldn't be able to focus on us until she'd finished what she was doing.

"Hi Britt! Do you want us to come back?"

"No, not at all! Come here for a second."

Quickly kissing me hello, Brittany grabbed onto me and led me through the dance she was working on. The thing about dancing with Brittany is that I needed no verbal direction to follow her lead, even when the steps were perfectly choreographed in her mind. Each tap or nudge she gave me was enough direction for me to follow her, and her eyes were sparkling as we fell into the modified tango that she'd created. It was just another way that I felt like I was perfectly in sync with her, that I trusted her completely as she dipped me low to the ground and then pulled me back up and close to her body. Even without music playing I was able to match her rhythm, and while the emotional part of me adored that we were able to do this, the musically trained part felt another surge of pride at just how much beauty my wife was able to create in her head. When the dance ended, Britt pulled me in for another kiss, this time a much deeper one than the first.

"Thank you! I'm so glad you're here, both because I  _really_ needed someone who would dance with me and just follow my lead, and because I just wanted to get home and talk to you more than ever today."

"It's a good thing Annie told me she wanted to come here then." I winked. "We brought you lunch. Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, I think so. Come sit with me."

While I unwrapped our lunches (breaking the cardinal rule of  _not eating_ in the dance studio), Brittany kissed the sleeping baby. Once our impromptu picnic was set up, we leaned against the mirror and I looked expectantly at my wife, curious, and slightly nervous, to hear what she wanted to talk to me about. Encouraging her to speak, I grabbed her hand and squeezed it and she sighed quickly before taking two more bites of her chicken salad sandwich.

"Okay." She breathed deeply. "I just...I've been thinking a lot about things, about how well you're doing, about how you're so dedicated to being strong. And I'm so proud of you."

"But?" A knot began to build in the pit of my stomach and I pulled my bottom lip between my teeth.

"No, no buts at all, San." Britt reassured me quickly. "When I saw Dr. Nance the other day, she kind of explained to me that in order for me to help  _you_ move forward in your life, in  _our_ life, I couldn't let the past hold me hostage either. I think that a part of me will probably always hold some  _small_ amount of guilt for what he witnessed, even though I know that all the evidence is saying that it was such a small piece of what happened, but I'm ready to let it go."

"Brittany, you know I'm not rushing you to work through this, right?"

"Of course I know that." She pulled my hand to her lips and kissed the palm. "But I'm ready too. I want to start moving past it all with you, and when this God awful trial is over, I just want to start the rest of our lives. You told me on New Year's Eve that everything that happened brought us here, and you're right. I love you, so much that I can't even believe it's possible to feel for another person, and I can't let those feelings be clouded by guilt over something I really couldn't control."

"I'm so glad to hear that." I breathed, so happy that she was finally accepting what I already knew in my heart to be true. "It's going to be  _so_ hard when we're in that courtroom, I feel like I'm just bracing myself for the impact of it, but I really believe that we're going to be so much stronger once it's over."

"I know. I always knew that you would be, but now I'm believing it about myself too."

"You've been my rock, B, through this whole ordeal. Even when you were dealing with your own emotions, you never wavered, and I appreciate it so much. He took something from you too that night, even if you weren't in that alley, and I'm glad you're taking back your control too."

It was so different for me to have a conversation related to Ryan Davis, related to the whole insane situation that had dominated my mind for the past four years of my life, without tears involved. But that brief conversation with my wife, one that didn't involve going to couple's therapy or any type of hysterics was so refreshing, so reassuring. Maybe I hadn't even realized it until that moment, but a part of me  _was_ holding back. I had needed to know that Brittany was okay, even if she'd shielded me from so much of her pain because mine was so much more powerful. Together, we were unstoppable, it's something we'd said even back in high school, and it became so much more true the older we got.

"MamamamaMA!" Annie babbled out from the stroller after Brittany and I sat in a comfortable silence for another fifteen minutes. Lifting her head from my shoulder, Britt went and brought her down to the floor with us.

"Hi, my sweet girl." Brittany cooed, kissing the baby all over her face. "I'm so glad you asked Mamí to bring you here today. I know she tells you all kinds of secrets, so you know what's going on, and now I'll tell you that things are getting so much better. You'll be proud to be a Lopez-Pierce when you realize just how strong that makes you, I promise."

"I told her on the day she was born that we were fighters, I just didn't know exactly what that meant yet." I smiled at Britt, loving to watch her look into the eyes of her tiny mirror image.

"See." She said to the baby, but looked at me. "I knew she told you all kinds of things. I wonder what she has to say about me when I'm not listening."

"Just that Mama's the only person I love as much as you, right  _mija?_ "

"I'll tell you this secret, although maybe it's not much of a secret to you Annie, Mamí is a big sweet talker."

"Only to you." I winked.

* * *

Later that night, Brittany and I were dressed up and in the car with a pajama-clad baby in the backseat. It was Lady Hummel's birthday, and unlike in every previous year (including the pre-attack years in New York) I actually  _wanted_ to go to the ridiculous karaoke night that Rachel put together. For some reason, even though she sang on stage every night (well, every night until she decided to take a hiatus for an undetermined amount of time right before her wedding) she still loved nothing more than singing in dive bars, and Kurt was always right on board with her. I was surprised that I didn't feel nervous about going to a bar for the first time (with the exception of the night right after the baby was born) since I'd been sober, but I guess I realized that with moral support, even if the others were drinking, I wouldn't feel the need to. I'd called Rosa to make sure I wasn't making a big mistake, and she'd encouraged me to go for it if I felt ready, and  _insisted_ upon making good on her promises to watch the baby for us.

When we arrived at Rosa's, she immediately scooped up the baby from my arms and kissed her. I smiled, always grateful to watch her with my daughter, so glad that fate had brought this pseudo-grandmother into  _my_ life, and Annie's  _Tia_ Rosa into hers. Obviously, I wasn't great at trusting people, but the fact that I  _did_ trust this woman with my daughter spoke volumes. After our usual multiple kiss, multiple turn-around goodbye routine with the baby in Rosa's living room, Brittany went to put her down in the pack-and-play and Rosa grabbed my hand gently.

"You know you can call me if you need me, Santana." Rosa said gently, knowing that I was at a point in my sobriety where I didn't need a lecture about not drinking. "If it gets to be too much, you have to remember to leave right away."

"I know." I nodded solemnly. "Britt's not drinking either. She says its because she hates wasting breastmilk, but she knows I know that it's more than that."

"She's a good partner for you, anyone would be lucky to have someone who understands their needs the way she understands yours."

"Trust me, I'm so aware how lucky I am. Speaking of lucky." I grinned. "How's Benny? You two seemed pretty cosy at the meeting I came to last week."

" _Cállate._ " She tried to scold but her smile gave her away. "We'll have coffee next week and I'll tell you all about it."

"Sounds good to me! I'm happy for you Rosa."

"I'm happy for you too." Her sweeping gesture indicated that she meant not only because of Brittany and the baby, but because of my whole change in  _self._ "We all deserve good things in life."

* * *

Of course, Rachel Berry-Hudson would never throw a party (if the six of us  _really_ counted as a party) in some overrated, jukebox karaoke bar. Once we finally found parking on the Lower East Side and ventured into Arlene's Grocery, I can't say I was surprised by the fact that the place that looked like a real dive was actually a trendy, but not too trendy bar where a live band played the music. I _also_ wasn't surprised by the fact that Kurt and Rachel were up on the stage singing a Barbra Streisand and Judy Garland duet, to the amusement of Finn and Blaine, and the ire of everyone else in the room. Once we settled into our seats and ordered sodas, Brittany leaned over to be and whispered in my ear.

"Still get excited watching Rachel sing karaoke?"

"What?"

"You think I don't remember?  _I want you! I do!"_ She laughed and I was horrified that she'd actually heard my drunken screaming so many years earlier.

"Oh my  _God_. Please add that to the ever growing list of reasons why I don't drink anymore."

"Noted." She laughed and I snuggled closer to her at the small table.

"San-TANA! Brittany!" Kurt shouted, echoed by Rachel as they bounded toward us after finishing their song. If I didn't know better, I'd have thought they were already completely trashed, but public singing had the same effect on them that drugs had on most people.

"Happy Birthday Kurt!" Britt sing-songed, hugging him.

"Yeah, Happy Birthday, are you finally hitting puberty this year? Think you'll grow your boobs?" I joked and Brittany nudged me, laughter in her eyes.

"Good to see you're back, Satan. I wasn't sure I recognized you anymore, being all nice to everyone."

"We bought you a gift, be thankful for that." I chided, and they all knew that even my banter with Kurt was so much less malicious than it had ever been before.

They sat back down at the table, and it felt so good to talk about  _nothing._ No one had to ask about what was happening with the trial, they all knew, and they knew that life was proceeding as normal, no, as  _better_ than my old normal, until it started, and they knew that the reason I came was to have a good time. So instead, we talked about Finn and Rachel's honeymoon, about Blaine's new modeling contract with David Hart (which didn't surprise me in the slightest, considering I really thought that he  _only_ modeled bow ties), about the fact that Annie was about five seconds away from actually crawling, about Kurt's decision that he was  _finally_ (in his words) ready to tie the knot, since he was twenty-six, and the rest of us had all settled down first. We laughed hard, we talked over each other, we threw digs back and forth, and I felt like I was getting a glimpse into my past life, the parts that I'd really missed the most, and most importantly, into the future.

"Sing with me?" Britt asked quietly, not wanting to embarrass me if singing at the Finchel wedding and singing in a karaoke bar were two totally different things.

"Britney and Madonna?" I smirked, remembering how I'd completely made up the fact that Britt and I had a shared amnesia induced fantasy junior year, simply because I'd really  _wanted_ to sing  _Me Against the Music_ with Britt, but would have been too terrified to admit it, even if Mr. Schu had allowed us to have Britney Week.

"You know I'll never say no to a Britney song!" She giggled and pulled me up towards the stage as Finn and Blaine wolf-whistled and Rachel and Kurt (not so shockingly) shrieked.

" _All my people in the crowd, grab a partner take it down!"_ Britt half yelled, half sang into the microphone nodding at me that she'd do the dance if I would.

It was a weird feeling, being up there in front of all of these strangers singing and dancing, but the same feeling, probably slightly intensified, that I'd felt at the wedding came back to me. Singing was so inherently part of who I was, and it was something that I'd really felt the loss of. Taking it back was strangely empowering, and I totally went with that feeling as Brittany kept reminding me with the loving looks she was sending to me that I was okay. And I was, that was the best part of it, I finally felt like I wasn't going to lose control as I stood up there, and I let myself listen to the applause. The funny thing was, everyone always teased Rachel (with good reason) that she performed for other people's approval, but I think the old me was the same way. This new person I was becoming though wasn't standing on a stage singing because I even cared what anyone else thought, I was singing because I loved it so much, I was singing because it let me express myself in an entirely different way, even if it was a cheesy Britney Spears song. It wasn't about the song, or the words, or anything else, it was just about opening up my heart.

" _Hey Britney."_ I sent Brittany a private smile as I sang, letting her know that the next words were so true. " _Sexy lady, I'd rather see you bare your soul._ "

When we finished, I was out of breath, not from dancing, but the sheer adrenaline rush of being back on stage. Once we were out of the spotlight, Brittany lunged at me and kissed me forcefully, humming something about how hot that was. I couldn't deny it at all, and I kissed her back until she finally pulled away and dragged me reluctantly back to our table. Our friends were once again talking over each other about how awesome it was to see us perform together, and I just nuzzled Britt's neck, so glad she'd asked me to go up there and sing with her.

"You we're both  _awesome!_ " Rachel gushed. "I can't believe that after all these years of you refusing to come to karaoke with us, Santana, you got up there and sang! I'm so excited!"

"Are you drunk?" I laughed, fighting the urge to elbow her playfully in the ribs.

"No! I'm not even drinking tonight. I'm just really happy, now we can-"

"Absolutely not!" I cut her off, knowing exactly where she was going. "I'm still not coming over to sing with you on your stage, I have to draw the line somewhere."

"At least someone draws the line." Finn laughed. "If everyone came over to sing, I'd never get any sleep."

"See." I looked at Rachel. "And you all think I'm not a nice person, I'm just helping out Finn!"

The rest of the night, I couldn't keep the goofy smile off of my face. It was cheesy, and probably slightly ridiculous, I was sure of it, but the people I'd pretended so long to hate, the rituals that I'd made fun of and refused to partake in, all of it was actually enjoyable to me, and I couldn't even deny that anymore.I knew full well that sitting in a bar,  _not_ drinking, feeling comfortable enough to have gone up on stage to sing, after having had a conversation with my wife about how we were making strides toward the future, was such an incredible thing, a thing that I wouldn't even have imagined possible before I'd taken the steps to be in control again.


	66. This Too Shall Pass

All through the night before the trial was set to begin, the rain poured down over New York City. Although it was only early April, thunder accompanied the rain, and judging by the lightening that it followed so quickly, the storm was close. While I lay in bed with my eyes wide open, I couldn't help but think that it was the perfect metaphor for what was about to happen. Storms are brutal, storms are destructive, but once they're over, there is also a strange sense of newness, a smell in the air, a  _feeling_  that comes from nothing else. That was what I was so desperately waiting for, the quiet aftermath. While I lay there in bed, I wasn't the only one awake. Brittany lay close to me, her head on my chest, checking, I swore, that my heart was still beating. Over the monitor, we could both hear Annie, who was restless in her crib, and after a particularly loud clap of thunder, she began to scream. When both of us knew she wouldn't stop, when we realized that she would be just as awake as we were throughout the long, wet night, Britt went to get her to bring to bed with us. It wasn't something we usually did, in fact, every parenting book we'd read between the two us  _discouraged_  it, but nothing about that night was normal, and we both wanted her as close to us as she could be.

I'd really been okay. Well, as okay as I could  _possibly_  have been given the circumstances in the days and weeks leading up to the start of the event that still seemed so surreal. Life continued the way I'd insisted upon, sticking to the plan for my return,  _our_  return, to normalcy, and that was the best thing that I could have asked for. We'd started introducing the baby to solids (there may be nothing in the world cuter than a baby covered in homemade puréed peas), I spent time writing  _a lot_  of music, Brittany prepped her assistant to cover her for the undetermined amount of time that we'd be sitting in a courtroom, we had brunches with our friends, dinners with each other, and most importantly, we just  _loved_ , loved each other, loved our daughter, loved our friends and family. But we both knew, and everyone else knew too, that the normal life we were becoming accustomed to would have to be put on hold while the trial was going on, that there was no way we could honestly expect to pretend during those weeks.

"It's just a storm, sweetheart." Brittany soothed the baby as lay her down on the bed beside me.

" _Con el tiempo, esto también pasará_." I whispered my mother's favorite sayings, ghosting my fingers over her cheeks.

"With time...?" Britt started, questioning the meaning of the phrase.

"This too shall pass." I finished for her.

"That's true for a lot more than just the rain." She looked at me pointedly.

"I know. It's so close, Britt, that I swear I can just about see the rainbow on the other side of it all. I've never wanted a rainbow to appear so badly in my life."

"Me either." She sighed, kissing my fingers that had fallen to Annie's forehead. "And I love rainbows more than anyone else."

"I just keep visualizing the end, like Dr. Collins said will get me through this."

"And how are you feeling about it?"

"I'm not sure, honestly. It kind of changes by the minute. Sometimes I feel like my heart is going to explode out of my chest because it's beating so hard in fear, sometimes I feel so sad, thinking that even when this is over, when he's locked up, there are still others like him out there, and sometimes I feel so unbelievably grateful that they found him, so grateful that the thought of him existing in my world won't be looming over me anymore."

"Its okay to feel conflicted." She leaned over the baby and pressed her lips against my forehead, the greatest comfort in the world to me. "When it's over, you'll probably have a whole new set of feelings, but then you'll know that the hardest part is behind you."

"That's the day I'm visualizing the most, you know. The day that the jury calls his bluff on all those  _not guilty_  pleas, and the day that he's told just how much he'll pay for what he did."

"I know. That's the day I keep picturing too, the day they hand the last piece of your life back to you."

We fell back into silence, the baby, my saving grace, drifting back into a slumber in our bed. Laying there, I waited for the thunder to quiet, waited for my  _mind_  to quiet, as I listened to Annie's gentle breathing, the pattering of the rain against the window, the soft scratching of Brittany's nails against the skin of my arm. Looking at Brittany, who was, quite obviously, watching me intently, I gave her a small, grateful smile. Her hand squeezed my arm, urging me to sleep, urging me to take the rest I needed. Eventually, I did close my eyes, eventually I did fall into a dreamless sleep, a sleep that I never would have thought possible on the night before so much would begin.

* * *

Early the next morning, Rosa showed up at our apartment. I hadn't thought about it until I began to panic, but Rachel, knowing that she'd need to be by my side, by Finn's side in the courtroom, knowing that both mine and Brittany's parents would need to do the same, had managed to set up a schedule with Quinn, Kurt, Blaine and even Rosa so that someone would always be taking care of Annie. I was eternally grateful that it was one less thing that Britt and I would have to worry about. After Brittany and I hugged and kissed our daughter for much longer than was necessary (or maybe not long enough, considering how much we both needed to let love overwhelm whatever feelings would attempt to replace it in the coming days), Rosa slipped a medal identical to the one she wore on her neck into the palm of my hand. I nodded to her, my gratitude evident, that she was offering me protection in the best way she knew how. With a final goodbye, my wife and I slipped out, meeting Finn and Rachel who were picking us up at the curb.

Making our way up the steps of the courtroom, past several reporters (who I hadn't even considered would be there), Brittany kept her arm securely around my waist. She was grounding me the best way she knew how, and I let myself be held up by her. Once we made it into the room that Kate had arranged for us as a quiet space, I sunk down into a chair and focused on breathing properly, focused on the feeble control that I was trying to maintain. Britt forced me to drink some water, running her fingers up and down my spine, while Finn and Rachel sat across from us in silent solidarity. I wasn't sure how much time passed before our parents, Quinn, Kurt and Blaine made their way into the room, hugging both Brittany and I in turn, but it seemed like only seconds before it was time to go downstairs. The jury had been assembled, Ryan Davis had been bussed from the prison he was serving his time at in New Jersey, there was no more opportunity to turn back.

"I love you." Brittany promised me, lacing her fingers with mine. She knew that I'd need to hear it more than ever, and I squeezed her hand in response, never letting my eyes leave the back of the defense attorney's head as we walked into the courtroom.

"We're all here for you, Santanita." My father promised from behind me, and I heard my mother murmur an acknowledgement of that.

We shuffled into the first rows behind the prosecutor's table, Brittany and I squeezed in between our parents with our friends behind us. I knew that there would be a flurry of people as the trial progressed, friends that would come from all over, reporters, and who knew who else, but on the first day, it was just the eleven of us (and Rosa, in spirit, I supposed) and that was comforting. One of the strangest things that I'd learned throughout this process was that Ryan Davis would sit at the table beside his attorney, and I would  _not_  sit at the table beside Kate and the other attorneys who were working with her. This was not a case of Ryan Davis vs. Santana Lopez-Pierce, it was the case of him against the State of New York. It was  _my_  life that he'd attempted to take, and for that one action, he had to face the criminal justice system of the  _entire state_. Maybe I was over thinking things, but it gave me some small comfort, some reassurance that one life became exponentially more important.

Stealing a glance to the benches that mirrored ours, I saw the older couple who sat there, the couple who were quite obviously  _his_  parents. As much as I didn't want to think about it, I began to wonder what exactly they were like. Were they like him? Were they stealing glances over at Brittany and me, wishing that their son hadn't failed in his attempt? Or were they ashamed that he'd turned out the way he had? Ashamed that they had to sit on his side of the courtroom and hear about the horrible things that their own flesh and blood had done? As a parent, the second option seemed to frighten me much further. Was it even possible that someone who'd been loved, someone who'd been raised properly, would turn out the way he did? I had to shake the thoughts out of my head, because I really  _couldn't_  wrap my head around any of that, it was too terrifying. When the doors opened behind us, I kept my eyes trained ahead. I didn't need to look this time, I'd see enough his face outside of my head for one hundred lifetimes in the days to come.

"All rise for the Honorable Judge Michael Blackwell." It was something I ought to get used to hearing, the one thing that would remain constant throughout the trial.

The charges were read again, for the sake of the twelve people who sat in the jury box, and once again, I fought to keep my mind trained on the present. Part of my mind wanted to remember every detail of what was happening on this room, the smell, the slight echo of each word spoken, the feeling of Brittany's hand keeping me from drifting away, the quickened breathing of each person who'd been affected by this in their own way, but another part of me wanted to block it all out, to simply go through the motions that would bring me to the desired outcome. When I'd finally weighed both sides and came to the conclusion that I wanted to be as present as my mind would allow, Kate was standing up, colorfully giving her opening statement.

"In the early morning hours of September 19, 2015, Santana Lopez-Pierce, née Santana Lopez, just shy of her twenty-first birthday, left her shift at Private Eyes Gentlemen's Club." I was trying to listen, really, I was, but my mind was too busy replaying exactly what Kate stood up there describing to the jury. Part of me though was able to process that Kate has used my married name, that it was some small slap in his face, that he  _didn't_  take my life and he  _couldn't_  change who I was. "We seek to prove that in an act if willful, premeditated attempted homicide, Ryan Davis forced the young woman into an alleyway, where, after making homophobic remarks, he repeatedly slit her throat and left her for dead."

"Keep. Breathing." Brittany spoke in my ear, and I could hear in her own laborious breaths that she was reminding herself the same thing.

"The evidence we will present to you will show that in the months leading up to the attack, Mr. Davis kept a close watch on Mrs. Lopez-Pierce, taking hundreds of pictures of her, attending a performance that her roommate starred in, frequenting the club where she worked and establishments within a close radius of her home in Bushwick. He watched her every move, and given the hate propaganda that littered his apartment, this was an attack based solely on the sexuality of the woman in question. We will also demonstrate that Ryan Davis felt no remorse for his actions, and instead, maintained news articles published in light of the attempted murder, performed frequent Internet searches in reference to it, all while he waited to see if the young woman would survive, or if his attempt on her life was successful."

Kate kept speaking, kept telling the jury all of the reasons why they would find this man guilty, and I let my eyes shift over to the back of his head. Wearing khaki pants and a light blue button down shirt, he looked like a boy on the first day of school. Part of me wanted to see his face, to know if the ADA's words were affecting him, but I realized that I didn't need to see it to know that they weren't. _No remorse for his actions_ , Kate's words echoed in my head, and I realized that I was thinking of the same thing I'd said to my grandmother when I'd spoken to her after she'd slipped into a coma. Some people will never see the error in their ways, never see that the way I was born had done nothing to affect them, and yet their actions in response had impacted both of us. It was different, obviously, with my abuela, no one was physically hurt, but there was still pain, still  _a lot_  of pain, all because there wasn't acceptance for something that really (I thought, glancing at my wife who I knew shared a love with me that was unlike anyone else's) was the most beautiful thing in the world.

The defense attorney took his turn to speak, and I didn't even attempt to fully listen to his words. There was something said about  _nothing more than circumstantial evidence_  related to that night in the alley, he spoke of the Google searches as a natural fascination with me, a stripper (his words dripped with judgement, as if having danced without my clothes on made me less of a person) and yet he seemed unable to explain the creepy stalker photos, unable to break the correlation between what happened to me and the fact that the man he was defending glorified hate crimes. I wondered if he truly believed his client was innocent, or if he took the case simply for the money (which, I'm sure was a large sum, given how wealthy both Ryan Davis and his parents appeared), but neither option gave me much comfort.

"The prosecution calls Dr. Anthony Molinas to the stand." Kate finally said, close to an hour later, and I moved even closer (though it was hardly possible without crawling under her skin) to Brittany.

Dr. Molinas had been the young trauma surgeon on duty the night I was brought into the emergency room. I realized that I never thought about him, never considered that his skill and quick response saved my life when other doctors may have counted me for dead. I looked at him, attempting to silently send my gratitude, in addition to the gifts that I was sure my parents had thought to send him years earlier. He was good, he had to be, if he spent hours stitching me back together, hours fighting for a lost cause that turned out to  _not_  be so lost, and I felt a small twinge of joy at the idea that there was someone  _not_  evil sitting before me. The joy was short lived though, because I knew why Kate had called him to the stand, knew what they were about to show the jury and everyone else in the room.

"Would you identify these photos for the court, Dr. Molinas?"

"These were taken upon the arrival of Santana Lopez at St. Luke's-Roosevelt Hospital on September 19, 2015."

The room suddenly felt much smaller as I forced myself to look at the pictures that I fought seeing for so long. The hand that was clasped with Brittany's automatically pulled upwards toward my scars, and I held our hands there, feeling the pulse in her fingertips against the marks, reminding myself that the gruesome images projected in front of us represented something that had long been healed. Everything seemed so quiet, and yet so loud at the same time. Over the rushing blood in my ears, I could hear my mother and Susan softly begin to sob, I could hear Brittany's breath catch in her throat, and I didn't have to look to know that tears were falling from her eyes while she tried to remain strong, I could hear Finn's head drop to the back of the bench, fighting the memories of what he'd seen after he found me that night, I could hear gasps from several unknown voices, probably people on the jury. I was biting my tongue so hard to keep from screaming that I could taste the blood in my mouth, only aggregating my panic.  _It's not real anymore. It's not real anymore. It's not real anymore_. I kept telling myself, and I could feel Brittany pulling me so I was just about in her lap, wanting to hold me closer than ever, wanting me to know that I was being held closer than ever.

"In your experience, what are these wounds consistent with?"

"Objection, speculation." The defense attorney called out.

"Overruled, you can answer the question, Dr. Molinas." The judge reassured him.

"Wounds like the ones photographed, like the ones that I treated the victim for, are caused by extreme force behind a knife blade. Severing that much muscle and tissue cannot occur without excessive pressure."

There were so many questions about the extent of the injuries, ones I only half heard as I stared at the pictures projected on the screen. It really was like a horror movie, I couldn't even believe that a reason person could be so injured, spill so much blood and survive, I couldn't believe that  _I_  had been that injured and spilled so much blood and survived.  _Pero, por los gracia de dios_ , I thought, reminded of what my mother had told Brittany about the fact that I'd even survived my own  _birth_ , and then survived again, the second time through something infinitely  _more_  traumatic. Maybe I really _was_  lucky, or maybe it was the fact that so many people around me were putting some faith into this higher power that was apparently watching out for me.

The cross examination of Dr. Molinas lasted, I thought, far longer than it needed to. Mostly, from what I heard, it consisted of questions about his experience, whether or not he could possibly remember each and every stitch he'd made into my body, anything to cause doubt over whether or not the injury took as much malicious intent as he was claiming. But really, I was pretty certain that the pictures spoke enough for themselves, that seeing a woman who looked  _dead_  with horror movie-esque slash marks would remain imbedded in the minds of  _everyone_  who'd seen them, even if they hadn't get been given proof that Ryan Davis had been the one to cause them. That would all come so much later, I knew, and when the court finally recessed for the day, I felt like I'd already been through an emotional war.

* * *

I couldn't handle doing anything but making my way back to our apartment. Our friends hugged me, hugged Brittany and whispered things to her before leaving, and Susan didn't let me go for a long time, feeling the gravity of what she'd seen. Then she did the same to her own daughter, and I knew my wife and I would do the same to  _ours_  as soon as we got to her. Seeing those pictures, hearing the words throughout the day, the  _first day_  of so many more, reminded everyone of what could have been lost, and everyone just felt the need to hold each other tighter. Brittany and I sat silently in the back of my parent's car as they drove us home, still forgetting the need for any crevice of space between us. When we reached our building, my father was the first to grab hold of me, squeezing me like his life depended on it.

" _Mi amor,_  my beautiful baby girl, I love you with everything I have in my body. Even when it was difficult for us to show it, I felt it even stronger." I could feel the tears running down his cheeks, falling into my hair. "Every day, and today more than most others, I'm so grateful you're with us, so grateful that you got an opportunity to continue to live your amazing life."

" _Yo sė, Papí. Confía en mi, yo tambíen_." I let my own tears cascade onto the shoulder of his coat.

My mother didn't say anything, I don't think she was even capable of words. They'd seen the pictures before, they seen the wounds in actuality before, but after so many years, there was an added gravity in the situation. They were able to see what we all would have missed if things had gone tragically different that night. Hugging her tightly, I didn't let go of the woman who'd brought me into the world, until she finally pulled away from me and held Brittany for just as long.

"I know you'll take care of her." My mom attempted to whisper, but failed from the thickness of her voice. "But if you need us, we will be at your door in ten minutes."

"Thank you, Mari. I know." Britt clasped my mother's hand in her own and looked over to my father. "I love you both."

* * *

When we'd finally bid them goodbye, knowing it would only be a few short hours before we'd see them again, Brittany helped steady me on my feet before we went up to the apartment. The hugging was repeated with Rosa, even though she hadn't witnessed what everyone else had, and though I was grateful. I was just ready to be alone with my girls. The others were so incredibly important to me, but Brittany and Annalise, they were my world, and I needed them to quiet my racing mind. After Rosa left, Brittany and I kneeled beside the tub, still dressed in the clothes we'd worn to the courthouse and bathed the baby, disguising the pain in our voices for her sake. She splashed happily, slapping her pink rubber duck against the surface of the water, and I managed to allow a smile to break across my face at her play.

" _Te amo, bebé_."

"I love you baby girl." Brittany said at the exact same time, and we exchanged a glance with each other.

Once Annie was fed, read to, sang to, and put down for bed, a desperate need for my wife rose up within me. Gripping at the fabric of her dress, I pulled her towards me, kissing her hard on the mouth. She kissed me back with equal ferocity before slowly pulling away and looking deep into my eyes. Brittany was strong, but she was at her breaking point too. All I wanted was to stop picturing what had been projected on the screen, for  _her_  to stop picturing what was on the screen. We needed to feel each other, needed to fall into an oblivion away from every creeping reminder of that courtroom.

"I  _need_  you." I breathed, and she pressed her body back up against mine.

"You'll always have me." She swore, grazing my clothed shoulder with her teeth.

There was nothing slow or gentle about our touches, dresses were ripped off, hands and mouths were everywhere, all at once. It had been years since I'd felt this, and I was reminded of the night after Reggie Salazar's commercial aired and I was emotionally destroyed.  _Remind me why this is all worth it_ , I'd begged her, touching her with the same sense of unending need that I felt as Brittany pushed me down on our bed. I didn't need a reminder of that anymore, I  _knew_  it was worth it, I knew  _anything_  was worth the love that we shared, but I still wanted to feel all of her. When I fell over the edge, I was surprised by the gasping sobs that wracked my body. Emotionally, it all felt like too much, the anger, the fear, and even the beautiful bliss that I felt under Britt's touch, so I just broke down.

"Oh, Santana." Brittany sighed sadly, still panting from her own release that came an instant before mine. "It's okay, let it all out."

"I'm. Okay. Promise." I gasped between sobs, staring up into her blue eyes.

"Shh, honey. I love you." The touches that were, just a few minutes earlier, so desperate changed to soft and loving as she caressed my body, placing soft kisses on each inch of skin she could manage.

"I love you too Britt, so much. I don't know what I would do without you. I'd never be putting an end to this, I'd never survive it."

"You are surviving, so much of this is all you, I'm just holding your hand while you do it."

"Those pictures, I never saw them before. I just...I forgot, and I want to forget again."

"So do I. It physically hurt me to see them, and I wasn't even the one who it happened to." Tears fell from her eyes and I kissed them away. She hadn't said it so I'd comfort her, but I felt the need to offer some small gesture that showed how much I knew she was hurting, and that I was so grateful that she was still taking care of me. "Tell me how to help you forget."

"Just hold me, please."

"I will, forever. Through this whole thing, through the rest of our lives. You're so close, Santana. So, so close to being done." She soothed, her lips finally finding the scars, soothing the burn that had flared up again.

"I know. So soon." I sniffled, my hands running up and down her lower back, touching her skin, savoring the fact that she was with me, that as much as Ryan Davis had taken from me, he hadn't permanently separated Brittany and I. "I can do this, I can do it without losing myself again."

"You can, and I'll tell you every single day to remind you."

We fell asleep like that, completely naked, skin pressed against skin, heart against heart. I didn't dream, I just slept, knowing that I'd have to wake up the next day, the next  _many_  days and have to face more nightmares, more fears. But even as I'd face them, I'd have the people who'd continuously proven that they were there for me, my friends, my parents, Brittany's parents. And most importantly, I'd come home to my daughter who'd help me remember the best things in life, I'd be held by my wife who would do  _anything_  to help me forget the bad things. It wasn't okay, not yet, but I expected that, and I'd do everything in my power to accept that the final end of my four and a half year struggle would be completely worth it.

 


	67. Time Makes You Bolder

Time spent sitting in the courtroom seemed to blur together as hours turned into days and days turned into weeks. Struggling to keep myself together, I learned to savor the in-between time, the evenings where whoever was taking care of Annie would meet the rest of at a restaurant with her, where Brittany and I would take her home and just smile at the good that she brought into our world, the late nights where we'd make love to each other and exchange feelings the best way we knew how, the weekends that we'd ignore everything else and be outside in the world, soaking up the early spring, smiling in the still brisk sunshine. Those moments were in such stark contrast to what was happening on the inside of that old stone building on Pearl Street, but that contrast only served to remind me of how important both things were, how handing the sadness would lead to eventual bliss, how embracing the bliss that  _already_  existed made the sadness so much easier.

The first two weeks of the trial dragged on as we heard more testimony than I thought possible. Detective Bricker described the  _crime scene,_ the video footage from the club, every moment of work that he and his staff had put in to solving the case, even as it seemed to lead to a dead end without the information that I'd eventually provided him. A forensic analyst discussed the similarities between the partial fingerprint found on the knife and Ryan Davis' actual fingerprints, the size of the shoe prints that ran parallel to the ones that my size seven stilettos had left (obviously, the same size as the man's who sat in the front of the room), and something about DNA fragments found under my fingernails. There was a specialist in computer forensics who laid out a timeline of that showed the rapidly increasing interest in my life (including, what was terrifying for all of us, near constant views of my Facebook and Twitter pages for a week before the attack actually occurred) and how the photos that were taken of me correlated with that obsession. It was horrific, leaving me a hysterical mess most days, but I still sat there, still listened, still clung to Brittany for dear life.

On the fifteenth day in that room, the day after Dr. Collins had given his testimony about my dissociative state, the state which caused me to be unable to describe the attack to the police (which, in response, during the cross-examination, Ryan Davis' attorney attempted to create doubt in the minds of the jury that I'd even be a credible witness to my  _own fucking attack_ ) and my subsequent spiral into alcohol dependence, Kate called Finn Hudson to the stand. If hearing people who didn't truly know me (with the exception of Dr. Collins, but that was a different situation in and of itself) speak about the attack was difficult, knowing that the man who'd found me, the man who'd saved my life, the man who'd done so much to  _keep_ me alive was about to speak was impossible. While he sat on the witness stand taking his oath, I chanced a glance behind me, where Rachel was flanked by her fathers, where Burt and Carol Hummel remained close to Kurt and Blaine. With the hand that wasn't attached to Brittany's, I reached behind me, holding it out for Rachel. Without hesitation, she took and and squeezed it tightly, so much passing between us without words as Finn swore an oath to speak the truth.

"Mr. Hudson." Kate began, giving Finn a slight nod to reassure him. "Tell me how you came to know Santana Lopez-Pierce."

"We went to high school in Lima, Ohio. We were in show choir together, and she moved in with my wife, well, she was my on-again-off-again girlfriend at the time, Rachel, and my stepbrother Kurt in Bushwick six months after we graduated. I moved in with them later the same year." It was just plain facts, the setup of the story that he'd gone over in the DA's office dozens of times, of  _all of our_ story, before the real questioning would begin. I could already see the beads of swear forming on Finn's forehead as Kate asked more basic questions, he wanted so bad to make sure everything was perfect, to make sure one technicality wouldn't mess everything up.

"On the morning of September 19th, 2019, how did you end up on the Upper West Side?"

"Rachel." He breathed, never breaking eye contact with his wife, letting her tether him the same way I let mine tether me. As Rachel continued to hold my hand, I could feel her nodding, encouraging him that he was doing fine. "She never liked the idea of Santana coming home alone from work so late at night. We were up really late watching a movie, and when she still wasn't home as we started getting ready for bed, we started texting her. After an hour with no answers, Rachel wanted me to go pick her up. I had done it a few times before, and was met with a verbal lashing by Santana for not minding my own business, but it was better safe than sorry, I guess. I called a car service and had them drop me off outside of Private Eyes."

"And what happened once you arrived there?"

"The lights were off and the doors were locked."

"So what did you do then?"

This was it. For so long, I'd resisted hearing exactly what had happened that night, even after speaking to Finn in my kitchen months earlier, I hadn't asked  _how_ he found me. For some reason, I'd been so scared to hear the way that the stars aligned for my friend to end up in the same alley where I lay bleeding. Brittany moved closer to me, pulled our joined hands into her lap, squeezed harder, rubbed over the pulse point in my wrist with her thumb. My mother pressed  _her_ hand between my shoulder blades, my father leaned over her and rested his on my knee. Rachel didn't let go of me, and I felt like we were just a tangle of bodies, merged together, staring expectantly at Finn. Even though  _they_ all knew the story (even Brittany, I was sure, had been told, despite never talking about it to me) they were holding me tightly, anticipating my reaction.

"I was furious with Santana. I'd assumed she'd gone somewhere after work, and she  _knew_ Rachel was neurotic about her safety." It was the great irony of the entire situation, I  _didn't_ have any intention of going home that night. I had one thing on my mind, one place I'd wanted to go, even if I never made it there. I  _may_ have ended up sending Rachel a half-assed text message at some point, I could never know what would have gone on, but knowing myself, I probably would have been so wrapped up in what should have been one of the best nights of my life that I wouldn't have. "Repeatedly, I started calling her, started walking towards Columbus Circle to see if she was in any of the bars over there."

I could hear the agony in Finn's voice and I caught his eye, assuring him that he wouldn't break me with the words he was about to speak. His eyes glistened with tears and he quickly swiped the back of his hand across his eyes.

"Do you need a break, Mr. Hudson?" I could hear the concern in Kate's voice, but also, the hope, which I couldn't blame her for, that the pain in his words would impact the jury.

"No." He was assertive in his answer. "I was walking down 58th Street, and I started hearing the same three lines of  _Love Is No Good_  playing over and over again. It took me a minute to realize that it was Santana's ringtone, and a minute longer before I started to panic that I was alone on the street and had no idea where the sound was coming from."

"And how did you end up finding the source of the sound?"

"I-" He stopped for a minute and I could hear the sound of him swallowing his tears. "I started screaming her name. I felt like my whole body went cold when there was no answer, and in between shouts I tried to follow the sound of the ringer. And then, I finally I figured out where it was coming from."

When Finn said his body had gone cold, I knew exactly what he was talking about. Mine had gone just as cold in that moment, realizing that it was only due to an improbable set of circumstances that I was even sitting there alive as he spoke. When it came to Finn, Rachel and the gays, I'd been flaky, more often than not, staying out through all hours of the night, sending no more than a text message that said  _I'm fine, don't bother me._ But the fact that I hadn't sent the usual message that night, the fact that Rachel had a bad feeling, the fact that Finn didn't just turn around and go home, when on any ordinary night I  _would have_ just been being flaky, saved my life. The goosebumps rose up on my flesh and somewhere in the back of my mind, I felt Brittany trying to rub them away, trying to soothe the ache that she could feel rising in my chest.

"And what did you see when you got to the source of the ringing?" Kate was asking him, as I tried to quiet my thoughts so I could hear the real world.

"I found what I  _thought_ was Santana's body. There was so much blood, that I didn't think it was possible that she wasn't a corpse." The words felt like they were puncturing my body, sharp and freezing cold like icicles. "When I looked up at her face- I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I just need a minute."

"Take your time." Kate told Finn as he shook his head, burying it in his hands. No one wants to see the things that we see as we close our eyes. Nothing felt clear to me except his face. I didn't know who among us was crying, but I heard whimpers from multiple directions, I didn't even realize that  _I_ was crying until I felt the wetness splash against my chest.

"Okay." Finn finally said, several agonizing minutes later. "I'll continue now. I looked at Santana's face, and I could hardly recognize her. She's always been beautiful, but she wasn't, not in that moment. Her features were contorted in pain, she looked too dark and too pale all at once. The blood pooled around her head, soaking her hair, no, not just her hair, her whole body, down to her waist was covered in blood so dark that it looked black. And her throat. I don't know, it was like nothing I'd ever seen, this gurgling, jagged mess of open flesh and blood."

Brittany anticipated what was coming before I did, and she held the bag she'd brought for that exact purpose as I wrenched violently away from everyone but her and vomited. I knew that all eyes were on me, but I couldn't bring myself to care as I emptied the contents of my stomach. I didn't hear the judge call for a brief recess, I just let myself be guided out of the courtroom by my wife. When we made it into the bathroom, Brittany tenderly wiped my mouth and face, then wiped her own that was soaked with tears before wrapping her arms around me and sinking down against the wall to the floor. I was in her lap, clinging to her shoulders and she kissed me on the top of my head, not knowing what else she could possibly do for me.

"I don't even  _like_  horror movies." I cried into her chest, like that one statement made all of the sense in the world. "And I fucking  _hate_  everything about this. It's harder hearing Finn  _talk about it_ than it was to  _see the pictures_ and I don't know  _why!"_

"I wish I had the answers for you, honey, but I don't. I really, really don't." Her hands ran through my hair, trying to calm me down as her own tears started falling again. The soft kisses she placed on me were helping me to breathe, and I noticed, she avoided my scars, avoided making me think about them  _at all._

"No one does. There's no handbook on how to survive sitting in a shitty courtroom while the asshole who tried to murder you is on trial."

"If you don't want to-"

"I don't." I cut her off, anticipating what she was going to say. I didn't  _have_ to be in that room, except on the day that I testified, I didn't  _have_ to hear all of the things that were being said. There was no law stating that, except for my own closure, I  _did._  "But I need it. I need to watch this all play out, I need to watch him lose, Brittany."

"Okay, then we'll go back in whenever you're ready." She would have done whatever I asked of her, I could  _feel_ her helplessness in so many moments during the trial.

"I just want a few more minutes of you just holding me like this. You make me feel so loved and safe."

"You  _are_ loved and safe. Don't you ever forget that."

We sat there for longer than we should have, but I couldn't force myself to move, and Brittany wouldn't force me either. There was a knock at the door, and Britt mumbled something before it swung open, revealing our mothers. They looked as disheveled as we did, eyes red ringed, faces tear marked. I finally found myself able to stand again and I held out a hand for Brittany, hugging her again before Mamí and Susan both wrapped their arms around us. All I could think of, in that moment, was that it must be infinitely easier to kiss away head bumps and soothe sore teeth than to stand helpless as your children suffer immense, incurable emotional pain. They were feeling this as intensely as Brittany and I were, because that's what mothers do, and it was possible that I wanted to be in their shoes even less than my own.

"My Santana." Mamí said softly. "Remember that he didn't win. Remember that we all still get to hold you in our arms today. Try to let that help you through this. As sickening as this all is to witness, to hear, you  _survived_ it."

"I know, Mamí.  _Es un milagro_ , seriously. I shouldn't be alive."

"Don't say that,  _mija._ You  _are_  alive because that's what was supposed to happen, even against all odds."

* * *

"I'll just remind you, before you begin again, that you're still under oath from earlier, Mr. Hudson." The judge reminded Finn, another half hour later after I'd finally pulled out of the hug with our mothers, after I drank some water, splashed some on my face and mentally prepared myself to go back in that room.

"Yes, Your Honor." Finn said solemnly, and I wished I'd been able to talk to him while we recessed, but Kate had taken him to a conference room where only Rachel, as his wife, was allowed inside.

"Now, if you're ready to continue..." Kate started and Finn nodded his consent. "After you found Santana, what did you do next?"

"I pulled off my shirt and tried to stop the bleeding, but there was still so much. Once I dialed 911, I tried to listen for her pulse, but my own heart was beating so loud that I couldn't hear anything."

"I'm going to ask you to identify this 911 recording." She informed him, as someone began preparing the tape.

* * *

**_New York City Police Department. Is this an emergency?_ **

_Please, you've gotta help me right now! I need an ambulance! My friend, I think she's dead! There's so much blood._

**_Sir, where are you?_ **

_Shit. If she's still bleeding that means she's alive, right? Who the fuck did this?_

**_Sir! You need to tell me where you are._ **

_I'm on 58th Street, west of 8th Avenue, I think. I don't even remember. Her blood is everywhere. We need help!_

**_We already have someone on the way. I'm going to stay on the phone with you. What's your name, sir?_ **

_Santana! Santana! You need to wake up, you_ **_need_ ** _to be alive. FUCK! Stop bleeding! What am I supposed to do?_

**_Try to remain calm. Can you tell me what happened?_ **

_I don't know! I found her like this. Someone did this to her! Someone cut her throat! Fuck! Why would someone do this? Santana, please don't be dead, you_ **_can't_ ** _be!_

* * *

The rest of the call consisted of Finn yelling and crying, telling me over and over again that I couldn't be dead, telling the woman on the other end of the call that there was too much blood. As he did that, the operator continued to try to get information out of him about what had happened, but I could tell by his voice that he'd gone into a state of shock and he couldn't even answer her every time she asked his name. I was  _there_ as that entire conversation happened, I was there and  _completely_ unaware of what was going on around me. Eventually, the sirens were heard in the background, and the sound of the phone hitting the floor and Finn's screaming of our location was the last thing before the call disconnected.

"That's me." Finn finally said, hardly recognizing his own panicked voice on the line. "That's my voice, but I barely remember making the phone call."

My stomach continued to churn as I listened to Finn speak more about the ambulance ride to the hospital, about how the doctor's asked him to call my parents, how he believed with everything in him that I wasn't going to make it. He cried for most of what he spoke, and I cried too, never letting my eyes leave his. It was possible that I'd  _never_ cried as much as I had while he was speaking up there, and  _that_ was saying something, considering. Kate then started asking him about knowing me  _after_ , trying to paint a picture for the jury that just because I'd survived didn't mean my life wasn't drastically altered, didn't mean that I  _still_ wasn't living in a degree of emotional turmoil. Finn spoke about the drinking, how tequila was the only thing that would put me to sleep, about waking up in the middle of the night to my screaming, about throwing me in the bathtub so I'd remember that I wasn't still there. My heart clenched as he talked about how vibrant I'd always been, and how from the moment I'd opened my eyes in the hospital, it was like the life had drained out of me with all the blood. I gave him a soft smile as he told the jury that it had taken me nearly four years before I could go outside at night, before I could smile easily, before anyone felt like they'd gotten back the girl they lost.

When she was finally finished questioning Finn, Kate had a satisfied smile on her face as she glanced over to the jury and then looked straight at me. I couldn't tell, because  _obviously_ it had  _all_ emotionally effected me, but apparently my friend had the desired effect. I felt exhausted, like I could sleep for a thousand years, but I settled for dropping my head on Brittany's shoulder and letting her rub my back as Ryan Davis' attorney (who's name I hadn't bothered to learn) approached the witness stand and began his rapid fire style cross examination. Despite the fact that I was overtired, I tried my best to keep up with the questions about whether or not I'd been a heavy drinker  _before_ the attack, about the guests that I'd had in the apartment (although, by the time Finn had moved in, Kurt and Rachel had already had the embarrassing  _you're acting like a slut_ conversation with me, so he had never seen any guests), about people in our neighborhood. I knew the man was trying to raise the question of whether someone else (a scorned lover, perhaps) could have committed the crime against me, and yet it didn't explain the stalking, his sick propaganda collection, the fact that Ryan Davis had left the bar forty-five minutes before I did after spending the entire night there.

"Mr. Hudson, have you ever made a homophobic comment?" The defense attorney asked, and I watched Finn go white as a sheet.

So many things flashed in his eyes, fear, shame, anger at himself. In an instant, so much happened, my mind replayed the the time I'd slapped Finn across the face, Rachel buried her head in her hands, Burt Hummel made some kind of choking noise, Kurt muttered an  _oh, Jesus_ , and every single one of us knew that he wouldn't lie. It had been years, Finn had grown up, he'd realized what an ass he'd been in high school, he was the faculty advisor of PFLAG at his school, but the things that we do in our lives just don't go away. They're always there haunting us, and in that moment, my friend was haunted by the most shameful part of his past. It was a reminder to me that there was no magic serum to make  _anything_ disappear, we just had to learn to make peace in our own hearts, something I was trying to do, something we  _all_ tried to do.

"Objection!" Kate yelled out. "Finn, do NOT answer that question."

"Counsel, approach the bench." Judge Blackwell ordered.

"This is irrelevant, Your Honor, Mr. Hudson is not on trial here."

"I'm aware of that, Ms. Goldman. Mr. Limpt, what is your point here?"

"That just because someone is homophobic doesn't make them a murderer."

"Make your point another way." The judge just about sneered, and I felt the racing of my heart calm down slightly. "Your objection is sustained, Ms. Goldman. That question will be stricken from the record."

It didn't matter that the objection was sustained, Finn was completely thrown off by the question. I tried to let him see in my eyes that he couldn't let the attorney get to him, that we'd discussed this so many times and he was  _not_ like Ryan Davis, but as he stumbled through the answers to the remaining questions, I felt like so much progress had disappeared. I chanced a look at Kurt who was still shaking his head, and I hated that lawyer so much. I hated that he was trying to make me look unfit, hated that he was trying to compare the man who tried to kill me ( _allegedly_ , I could hear his voice in my head) with the man who'd saved my life, and I hated the fact that he could sleep at night after defending a man with a permanent look of entitlement on his face. I wanted to scream out loud, wanted to tell everyone to stop making it worse, but I couldn't, I just had to sit there in silence, feeling so, so angry. When Finn was finally done on the stand, and the judge recessed for the weekend, I just about fled from the courtroom, needing to see him immediately.

"I can't right now, Santana." Finn said sadly as I grabbed him by the shoulder.

"You can, and you will." I demanded, grabbing him in a fierce hug. "You're not him!"

"I know I'm not him, but I hate that I wouldn't have been able to answer that question honestly if the judge had made me. You can forgive me all you want, but it doesn't change it. Doesn't change the fact that even though my brother, my fathers-in-law, my  _best friend_ who is the mother of my goddaughter are all gay, I still can't say I've never passed judgement."

"Finn!" I stomped my feet, feeling indignant. "You need to stop, you can't let that asshole and his lawyer do this to you. Ryan Davis is not getting the control back, we've doubted ourselves enough because of him. I  _know_ that you're able to be honest with your students because of how you behaved in the past, I know that you still regret it every day, and maybe you should, but you are  _not_ like him, don't even kid yourself by thinking that."

Before I knew what was happening, Finn pulled me back into his embrace and was shaking with big, hiccuping sobs. Almost immediately after, I joined him, feeling the impact of every word he spoke about finding me, feeling every fear that seemed to bubble up inside of him. That's what this was, this whole awful experience, re-opening the wounds. I thought of what Brittany had said to me back in November about putting the broken vase back together properly. Maybe Finn hadn't healed properly either, hadn't fully  _understood_ his past enough to forgive himself, but he would, now that he'd seen error of his ways in yet  _another_ light. When we finally pulled away from each other, Brittany and Rachel were waiting beside us in that hallway, and I immediately went to Britt. She understood so much how I was feeling, understood that I ached for Finn as much as for myself that day, and she held me close, silently letting the feelings flow out of me.

* * *

Finn has testified on a Friday, so I'd spent the entire weekend nervous about being called to the stand on Monday, nervous about how I'd react to everyone listening to me, everyone training their eyes on the scars that marred my body. Before it was time to go in the room, Brittany and I stood in the hallway, as she forced me to take bites of her granola bar, to take slow sips of her water bottle. Between each bite and sip, she'd kiss me softly, calming the gigantic butterflies in my stomach.

"This is your moment Santana, the moment he gets to see that he didn't ruin you. If you're afraid to look at him, just look at me and I'll remind you that you're safe. I'll remind you that love is stronger than  _anything_ he could possibly feel. I'll remind you that doing this today makes you even  _more_ incredible than I could have even imagined. And it it's too much, even then, close your eyes for a minute and imagine our little girl, imagine how we'll tell her some day that Mamí took down a real, live monster, and she'll be more amazed by you than she already is, Remember before competitions, you used to look at me and say  _we got this_? Well today,  _you_ got this. I believe in you, so much, and I hope you believe in you too." Brittany was giving me a pep talk, refusing to cease until she knew that I'd be okay up there.

"I do, Britt. I do believe in myself, for the first time maybe in my entire life, I really, truly believe." I kissed her deeply, needing that to be the last thing I felt before all eyes were on me. "I love you."

"And I love you more."

When Kate called me to the witness stand, I walked slowly and deliberately past the jury box, allowing them to get a close view of the damage that had been done to my skin. It was the first time I'd ever felt slightly glad that they were there. The twelve people in that box didn't have to rely only on pictures and stories to see what had been done to me. No, they got the up close and personal vision of how badly I'd been physically damaged. Once I reached the stand and rose my hand to swear (I was glad they didn't use Bibles anymore, I couldn't imagine swearing on the same one that Ryan Davis would, the one that he apparently interpreted so much differently than the people who were there to support me) I looked directly at Brittany, not even letting my eyes scan the rest of the crowd to see who'd come.  _Time makes you bolder_ , my wife mouthed to me, pressing her hand over her heart, and it meant a lot. Time  _had_ made me bolder, both in my ability to accept myself, and my growth from so many insecurities that once would have held me back me from setting foot in that room.

I had to start by answering basic questions, just like Finn had. Where was I working at the time of the attack, what were my long term career aspirations back then, had I ever interacted with any clients outside of the strip club, the list seemed to go on forever. While I answered them, I wasn't ready to look at Ryan Davis, so I kept my eyes locked on my wife, the love pouring from her face, her unwavering strength encouraging me as I spoke. Our mother's both held her close, and I was grateful for that, grateful for the fact that she had two strong pillars beside her when the questions that would be hard for both of us started.

"What happened in the locker room of Private Eyes on the afternoon before your attack?" Kate finally asked, and I could see the split second of torture pass over Brittany's face.

"Brittany, the love of my life, the woman who is now my wife came to New York. It was the first time I'd seen her in almost three years, and we kissed before she went to wait for me in her hotel room while I worked my shift."

"And what was your night like at work?"

"It was pretty much the same as every night, except that I was probably a little distracted by the thought of getting to Brittany."

"And what happened after you left for the night?"

With everything in me, I fought the urge to be sick, fought the urge to let the memories pull me under.  _Just speak them simply_ , Kate had told me during our preparations. Inhaling a deep breath, I watched Brittany trace a heart over her chest, and I was finally able to break eye contact with her. When my eyes shifted over to the other side of the courtroom, Ryan Davis' eyes were cold and expressionless, but I looked directly in them, looked into the face who, to me, was as good as the devil.

"I heard someone walking behind me, but I brushed it off at first. Then the footsteps got closer, and I realized that I was being followed. Once his hands were on me, I wasn't sure what I was supposed to do, how I was supposed to make it out. I looked in his eyes, and I know that the man I saw was, without a shadow of doubt, Ryan Davis."

"After he grabbed you, what happened?"

"He told me that he'd seen me  _with my tongue down some woman's throat_ and that I shouldn't be up on stage if I wasn't available for men. I tried to protest, but he hit me hard across the face, and told me that he would rape me if he wanted to, but that he didn't, he just wanted to teach me a lesson." I stopped to breathe, again surprised when I looked down and saw the tears on the table in front of me. Had I become so numb that I couldn't even feel when I was crying? "Then I saw that he was holding a knife, and before I could react, he swiped the blade across my throat."

"What do you remember after that?"

"I remember my head hitting the ground, and then  _nothing_ until I woke up days later in the hospital."

I swore, there was a hint of a smirk on the face of the man I was staring at, and I wasn't sure if I was feeling anger or such deep sadness about the fact that he was actually a real, life person. That he could even think that what he'd done to me was pride worthy, that he had the audacity to sit in that courtroom without the slightest hint of remorse. The anger won out over the sadness, and I could feel myself glaring at him, could feel my cheeks redden with the familiar rage that I'd managed to repress in so many other aspects of my life. Kate began asking about speaking to the police, and I told her the whole truth, told her than I physically wasn't capable of describing the man who'd done it, that even though I saw him in my mind almost constantly, it was four years and months of extensive therapy later before I could form the words that would describe the face of my nightmares.

"How did you handle what happened to you that night?"

"I drank" I tried not to let the quiver come out in my voice, tried not to betray the confidence I was trying to let Ryan Davis hear. "I drank all the time, from the time I woke up in the morning until well into the night. I took Valium by the handful, I tried to block out every memory of how scared I was in that alleyway. But nothing worked, I still had nightmares, I still had blackout flashbacks, I was still so afraid to leave my house that I basically shut myself inside."

"And how else did that night effect you?"

"It effected every single thing about my life. I gave up my dreams of singing, it hurt too much when I tried. For three years I lost the woman I love." My eyes narrowed as I continued to stare at the devil. "I all but lost my family and friends, I was in ruins. I wasn't living, I was just existing. Honestly, I was as good as dead."

"What changed all of that?"

"Brittany." I tore my eyes away from emotionless ones, and instead met a pair that was so full of love, a pair where tears were spilling from, a pair that was trying to stay together for my sake. "She showed me how to take back control, how to stop drinking, how to see someone who would help me make sense of every terrifying thing that I felt. It wasn't until I was able to do those things that I actually felt like I was alive again."

I didn't look back to the defense table again, there was no point. My words meant  _nothing_ to him, but I realized that  _none_ of this was about him anyway. It was about myself, about the life that I was taking back, about what he'd failed in taking from me. Kate asked me questions about how I'd finally found the courage to identify the man who'd nearly broken me, and I talked about Halloween night, I talked about going back to the place where the attack occurred, I talked about the intense fear that he was still out there. All the while, my eyes remained locked on my wife, letting myself remember _how_ I'd really come to be sitting up on that witness stand. When I was finally finished answering her questions, after we broke for a late lunch, I was back on the stand, letting the devil's apprentice take his turn at questioning me.

"Mrs. Lopez-Pierce, is it true that you were one of the most popular dancers at Private Eyes?"

"Yes." I wasn't ashamed to admit that, I gave more lap dances in a night than some of the other girls gave in a week.

"And is it true that many of your clients were repeaters?"

"Yes."

"And we've already heard Dr. Collins, your  _psychicatrist_ speak." The tone of that man's voice as he said the word made me wanted to reach over and slap him. Like because I had to see someone after what had happened to me, I was undeniably insane. "Do you confirm what he said about you having blocked out periods of time for years after you were attacked?"

"Yes, but-"

"I just need a yes or a no." I bit my tongue,  _hating_ that I couldn't elaborate. Yes, I'd blocked out a lot of time, but with the exception of the time where I'd been  _unconscious,_ I'd gained most of it back. Even Dr. Collins had  _said_ that.

"So in this recovery of your memories, isn't it possible that you've confused my client with another of your regulars at the  _strip club?_ "

"No." I nearly shouted the word. I didn't even need to elaborate on that one, the face in my head never changed, it was  _always_ him.

"But yet you waited four years to speak to the police, waited until just a few months after Mr. Davis had been arrested for another crime. Even with the confusion in your mind, you don't think you could have projected this onto another man you vaguely recognized?"

"No. I didn't." I saw what he was trying to do, he was using the questions, even with my contradictory answers, to paint a different picture to the jury.

For most of the time that I was being cross-examined, I just wanted to cry out in anger. He was trying to show the jury that I was cruel to the people who worked with me, sarcastic to the customers, and had more enemies than I could count. On top of that, he continuously threw in questions about my confusion and my sanity, and I could literally feel myself shaking when he'd finally decided that there were no more ways to ask me if I was sure about the face I'd seen on the man who'd slit my throat. The judge held everyone late, wanting me to finish with the cross-examination, and by the time everything was done, I'd been up on that stand more than eight hours. Finally climbing down from the stand on unsteady legs, Brittany was at the bottom, holding out her hand for me, letting me fall into her arms.

"Honey, you did so well."

"Please Britt, I don't want to talk about it any more. Just take me home."

There were so many people who had come that day outside of the usual group, people who'd come to support  _me,_  and I could do nothing more than wave weakly. Mercedes, Tina, Puck, even Mr. Schu had made the trip, but I let Brittany speak on my behalf, thanking them all for being there, letting them know it was appreciated while I remained silent in her arms. They understood, they'd seen the war I'd gone through up there, and once it was over, once I felt like myself again, I knew I'd be able to appropriately thank them. Climbing into the back of my parent's car, the same as every night since the trial had started, everyone was silent as they drove us home.

* * *

When we got inside, Brittany took the baby from Blaine, exchanging a few words with him while I went into the bedroom and kicked off my shoes before stripping off my dress and pulling one of Britt's t-shirts over my head. Without even bothering to wash my face or brush my teeth, I buried myself under the comforter on our bed and lay there, eyes open, staring at the ceiling. I wasn't sure what to feel, but mostly I just felt drained. It was over, my part, at least, and there was something extremely comforting about that, but at the same time, it was like that post-Christmas haze, where the build up is so big and the actuality isn't near the same. Ryan Davis had been completely unaffected by me, and as much as I accepted that it wasn't the point, part of me had hoped that my words would do _something_ , part of me hoped that what I had to say would impact at least a small percentage of how I knew  _his_ would do to me when it was his turn to speak. But there was nothing more I could do, nothing more but wait and hope.

"Are you still awake?" Brittany whispered from the door a half hour later. She knew me so well, knew I'd need some time alone before I'd be able to speak.

"I am." I didn't lift my head to look at her. "Is the baby with you?"

"Yeah, I thought you might want us to come lay with you."

"That would be really good." I felt myself choke up a little at the thought of something to blissfully simple after an emotionally draining day.

"Here Annie, go tell Mamí how much you love her, she needs to hear it today."

Brittany handed me Annie and I hugged her against me while she went to change into her own pajamas. Feeling the weight of the baby against me  _still_ worked wonders in calming me down. It was like some maternal instinct kicked in, where I couldn't completely lose it because there was a little life who depended on me to keep it together.  _Estrellita, ¿dónde estás? Quiero verte cintilar,_ I sang to her, once again letting her fall asleep in our bed while I waited for Britt. When my wife finally curled up beside us, I felt my entire body sigh with relief.

"It's over, Britt.  _I've_  done all I can do now. Now it's up to Kate, and then the jury."

"I know. Santana, Kate said you were great too. So it's not just me saying that because I love you."

"I hope so. God, more than anything I don't want him to get off because his horrible lawyer made the jury think that I was a crazy, slutty, super-bitch that had a thousand enemies lining up to kill me."

"You're not, I promise you that you didn't come off like that  _at all._ Everyone could see how much of a struggle you've been through, everyone could see that his mere presence made your skin crawl. Trust me, okay? He's not going to walk out of there, no matter what kind of defense they try to pull." She ran her fingers soothingly up and down my arm and I melted into the touch.

"I  _do_ trust you, I just wish I could be as optimistic as you are."

"I know. But remember, this is about so much more than  _him_ being taken down. The most important thing is that  _you_ have fought your demons, so hard. That's the biggest accomplishment of all."


	68. Not Nothing

As the days carried on, I began to curse everything about that horrible, horrible courtroom. The more time I spent inside, the more I began to notice the little things, the clacking noise that the heater made, the crack in the shape of an arrow in the front left corner of the room, the fact that it was so stifling hot sometimes, and bitterly cold others, despite it being late in the Spring. Maybe I was looking for distractions, no, actually I was  _definitely_ looking for distractions, as the defense took their turn, but every single thing about that place was beginning to drive me stir-crazy. I felt like I couldn't sit there anymore, couldn't be patient while I listened to things I didn't want to hear. I was unsettled, and more than anything, I was just  _done._ I wanted nothing more than to be back at home playing with my daughter all day, instead of getting an hour or so with her at bedtime, I wanted the topic of every conversation I had (except with Brittany, because we'd decided we  _couldn't_ talk about it all night long) to  _not_ be about what was going on with the trial, and mostly I just wanted everyone who was called up to the witness stand to  _stop_ talking so Ryan Davis could have his turn (even though I really didn't think he deserved one) and the jury could just make their decision before I snapped.

It was a different kind of agonizing listening to the witnesses for the defense than listening to those who were on the state's side,  _my_ side. Both times, I had to hear things I didn't want to, but hearing _their_ version of the truth caused a twisting discomfort in my stomach, an uneasiness that I couldn't shake, no matter how hard I tried. But I sat, I listened, and on more days than not, I bit my tongue, or my lip, or the inside of my cheek so hard, to keep from crying out in disbelief, that I was constantly tasting blood. Their own forensic analyst carried on about the partial fingerprint on the knife matching an incredibly inflated number of other prints in the world, some psych- _something_  claimed that the photos that were taken of me were simply an extension of his fascination, that they weren't really all that different than looking at videos of me online ( _oookay,_ was all I could think, and I could  _feel_ Kate rolling her eyes, even if I couldn't see her face), and a bunch of people who'd known the man of my nightmares his whole life all sat there and spoke,  _defending_ this monster. Hearing the character witnesses speak on Ryan Davis' behalf were the hardest for me, the people who called him a pillar of his community, the Golden Boy who'd come to New York to fulfill his big dreams, the former youth group leader, an all around  _good boy_.  _Right._

I couldn't reconcile those words with the cold eyes that I saw in my nightmares, the eyes that were  _still_ cold as he sat wordless at the defense table. How was it possible that within one person there could be two characters, so starkly contrasting? But then again, I noted that all of these people attesting to the  _good character_ of the man who was  _far from_ good had all known him so many years ago. Was that how it was possible, that it some point, there had been a fundamental  _shift_ in who he was? Without being able to control them, words flashed into my mind, words that I'd heard sung so many times (Goddamn you  _Rachel_ for making me think of showtunes while I sat listening to  _bad, bad_ things);  _Are people born wicked? Or do they have wickedness thrust upon them?_ Again, my eyes darted over to his parents, his parents who had  _not_ taken the stand, and I was beginning to believe, given their facial expressions, that they  _didn't_ believe what the people who spoke on their son's behalf were saying, and that was  _awful_ for them. None of it mattered to me, not really, but attempting to make sense of what happened had become my latest preoccupation, the only thing that kept me from losing my mind at the thought that there were actually people who cared about the devil.

On the day that I'd been waiting for (and dreading) for so long, the day when I would finally get to hear how Ryan Davis would explain his actions, how he'd claim non-involvement in something that I _knew_ he did ( _allegedly_ , his attorney's voice repeated in my head for the millionth time) it felt like everyone I'd ever known, and so many people I  _didn't,_ sat in that courtroom. I didn't really have the energy to process who'd shown up, but I could feel the swell in the crowd, I knew that my sister-in-law had taken her finals early to be there with us, I distantly heard Rachel and Finn greeting some of our old friends, but my attention was split between the firm grasp of Brittany's hand on mine and the man who was waiting smugly for court to be called to order.

"The defense calls Ryan Davis to the stand." The words echoed through the room, echoed through my mind, and Brittany instinctively pulled our hands over my heart, reminding me,  _always_  reminding me that it was still beating.

Again, we listened to all of the preliminary biographical  _crap._ Everything that no one in the room actually cared about, the  _facts_ that I already knew to be true, the  _only_ things he would speak that I could agree with without dispute. Ryan Andrew Davis, born February 3, 1991 in the tiny town of Bronte, Texas, moved to Galveston when he was six, moved to the Upper East Side of Manhattan when he was eighteen, worked for Brown Harris Stevens until 2019 (of course, he didn't voluntarily say  _why_ he no longer worked there), that was the bare bones portrait of him, the surface information that revealed  _nothing_ about who he really was. It was the same thing I hadn't understood for years, hadn't understood that there is  _so_ much more to a person than what meets the eye. Where we work, where we come from, those things mean so _little_ in comparison to who we  _are_ , how we treat people.

"When did you meet Santana Lopez-Pierce?" The defense attorney asked.

"I never actually  _met_  Santana Lopez- _Pierce._ " He answered flippantly, staring directly at Brittany and I. I felt the blood in my mouth, coming from my cheek at those words, as I fought the urge to yell out for him to  _shut up and get over it already._ "But I  _did_ meet  _Carmen_ , who I  _later_ found out was the same person, in March of 2015."

Inwardly, I cringed at the mention of my former stripper name, cringed at the look Ryan Davis gave me as he spoke it. But it was too early to start letting my emotions get the best of me,  _way_ too early to lose control of my fragile grip on reality.

"And where did you meet her?"

"At Private Eyes. She was the hottest dancer there, even if she  _pretended_ to make eye contact when it was obvious that she never actually looked at the person who's lap she was on."

"Elaborate on that, Mr. Davis."

"Her gaze would fall everywhere but my eyes, like she was too good to look at the guy who was paying her. Oh, she made up for it with her great rack and the dirty words she'd murmur in my ear with that raspy voice, but it was  _obvious_ that she never actually saw who she was dancing on." Really?  _Really?_ I knew what he was trying to do, trying, like his lawyer had done in his cross-examination of me, to say that there was no way I could accurately identify him, but he  _actually_ sat up there in front of a  _full court_ and commented on my  _great rack._  Was this guy kidding me? My own rage started to bubble up far too soon, and I could feel the heat coming off of Brittany in waves.

"How often did you visit the club?"

"I didn't have a  _set_ schedule." He replied almost harshly. Seriously, nothing about this man was remotely likable, even if he  _hadn't_ tried to kill me. "Sometimes I went twice in a week, sometimes I didn't go for a month."

As he spoke more about his encounters with me (most of which, I didn't remember, he  _was_  right about me never making eye contact. It was the only way I didn't go crazy there. I let my mind take me somewhere else, every single night, but it was beside the point, I would  _never_ forget the face in the alley), I was squirming in my seat. That was another life back then, a life I didn't want to think about, and hearing his descriptions of me brought brought back terrible (albeit, not  _as_ terrible as others) memories of groping hands, leering eyes, more showers to get the  _ick_ off of my body than I could count. Ryan Davis' eyes bored into me, and the same feelings I'd felt on stage came rushing back; like I wasn't a  _person,_ I was a tool for someone else's sick enjoyment, a tool for their own private pleasures, but not someone  _real._ It wasn't until that moment that I realized that simply  _being a stripper_ had effected me in more ways than I realized, had made me feel violated despite the fact that it had been my own choice. My eyes cast down to Brittany's hands, the hands that caressed my body, making me feel special and whole, and I tried to focus on that, not the sticky feel of the hundreds of others that had touched me.

"When did you first encounter the woman you knew as Carmen outside of Private Eyes?"

"I was having lunch with a buddy of mine in Bushwick, and she was sitting across the restaurant by herself."  _Lies._ No one goes to Bushwick unless they have to, it's not Cobble Hill or Park Slope, you don't just  _lunch_ there.

"And what happened from there?"

"I followed her." I felt myself physically recoil at his words, I did  _not_ think he'd come right out and admit that.

"Why?" The defense attorney was still calm, cool and collected, and that made my stomach ache. Ryan Davis admitting he followed me wasn't a small victory, it was part of a plan.

"Why  _not?_ " The words felt sharp against my throat as they came out of his mouth. "People follow famous people around all the time and no one cares, that really wasn't any different. She put her body out there for the world to see, why shouldn't I have taken the opportunity to see it some more?"

Needing to break eye contact with the man who  _basically_ just said that stalking was okay because I was a  _stripper_ , I turned to look at my wife. The hand that wasn't clasped with mine was on the divider between the gallery and the prosecution table, and her knuckles were white with how tightly she was holding on. Never in my life had I seen the fury that was in her eyes as she stared that man down. Deeply, I inhaled, trying to get as much air in my lungs as I possibly could. Everything was making it very hard to breathe, and I really wanted to turn around and flee from the room. I'd promised myself that I would no longer let hate and anger consume me, but the fact that Ryan Davis wasn't even  _denying_ the first part of what he'd done sickened me to no end. I couldn't look back at him as he continued the tell the jury that he thought taking pictures of me was acceptable, that he hadn't  _intentionally_ gone to Rachel's play to see me, despite having already discovered our friendship, that once he figured out my real name, he looked me up online because  _why not?_ He actually said those words,  _again._ Like basic human decency, the right to privacy, the  _law_ didn't apply when it came to  _me_.

"When did you discover the woman in question's sexuality?" At that question, I forced the hand that wasn't clasped (and possibly bruised by the force with which we were gripping each other) with Brittany's underneath my thigh to keep from slapping the bench beside me in anger. I hated feeling like  _I_ was on trial, like something I  _was,_ not  _chose,_  not only precipitated, but  _justified_ what had happened to me.

"In June of 2015. It wasn't police work, she didn't exactly try to hide it." Contempt laced his words, and I felt the sudden urge to sidle closer to Brittany. I didn't hide it and I  _wouldn't_ hide it, not from him or from anyone else. I wasn't the scared little girl I'd been in high school, I was a woman who'd been through hellfire and came out comfortable with who I was, who I loved, how I lived my life.

"June, Britt." I whispered, thinking it would ease the furrowing of her brow when she  _heard_ that he knew long before she was even in New York. Instead, she simply squeezed my hand still harder and continued watching Ryan Davis' every motion, hardly even blinking.

"Three months before I  _allegedly_ attacked her." He added.

At those words, I ripped my hand back out from under my leg to cover my mouth. I needed to control the scoff that was at the back of my throat, threatening to burst forth, I  _needed_ to remain calm. He didn't say the words, but I heard them anyway,  _If I was going to kill her, I wouldn't have waited three months to do it._ Like he deserved some kind of fucking  _prize_ for letting me exist in the world for that long. My anger finally started to spill out in hot tears, but I kept myself quiet and once I trusted that I'd remain that way, I managed to move my hand to wipe away the tears. It was becoming more and more impossible for me to listen to him as he told the jury why he continued to  _observe_ me (observe, seriously, they kept using the word  _observe_ , like it wasn't  _stalking_ ), how he'd hoped a  _hot girl_ like me would see the error in my ways (he  _really_ said that, and the only sound I could hear was Susan Pierce sucking her teeth in disgust and disbelief as she reached over Brittany to rest her palm against my forearm).

"Where were you on September 18, 2015, the night before the attack?" The defense attorney asked, and the twisting in my stomach became so unbearable that I hunched over slightly, trying to use pressure to ease it. Sensing my pain, Brittany pulled her eyes away from the man she'd been glaring at to check on me. Even through the anger and unshed tears shining in her eyes, she managed to give me the softest look of love and I rested my head on her shoulder, both for my comfort and hers.

"I went to Private Eyes for a few hours, left at 9:45 and went home to bed. I had an early meeting with a client the next morning." I tried so hard to picture him there that night, tried to picture myself dancing on his lap, tried to picture his little smirk, the gleam of something  _murderous_  in his eyes, but even if I  _had_ made eye contact, the events of the night before my life almost ended were still so blurry. I wanted to remember what I'd missed, how I hadn't  _sensed_ what was coming, but it was proving completely impossible.

"And how did you find out about the victim's unfortunate attack?"  _Unfortunate._ There was so much blood in my mouth, I was just biting  _everywhere._ Brittany kicked the wall in front of her so hard that Kate turned around to look at us. As much as I'd wanted to hear what had to be said before Ryan Davis took the stand, I  _didn't_ want to in that moment. The way he and his lawyer talked about it seemed to cheapen it, like because they were claiming he hadn't done it, it hadn't still  _happened_ to  _me. Unfortunate_ , I think having my throat slit was a  _little_ bit more than unfortunate.

"It was all over the papers. They didn't say her name, but she was the only young, Latina stripper at the club, and when I went back a few days after, no one there could shut up about it." He'd gone _back_? He'd walked past the place where he'd left me to  _die_? Fighting the urge to be sick again, I swallowed hard and Brittany rested her chin on my head, letting me feel safe, but I could feel the tightness in her jaw, her fight against the same urges I was having. "Then the next week, she woke up, and the news all started saying that it had been some kind of hate crime."

"What was your reaction to the news?"

"I'm not going to lie, because I'm sure you'll find people who will remember that I said it, but my first thought was that sometimes people bring about what happens to them with their own disgusting behavior."

There were gasps coming from every direction, and I didn't even know how to respond to that. My anger reached a fever pitch, and then boiled over, leaving me feeling completely drained. I could hear the judge banging his gavel, calling for order, but the courtroom had been shocked into a frenzy. How was this man even claiming that he wasn't  _guilty_ with a statement like that? How can someone have such a callous disregard for human life without being capable of  _taking_  one? Brittany was shaking as she held me so tight that I could hardly breathe, as if she was squeezing me to keep me in this world with her, and I didn't stop her. Somewhere in my mind, I registered that his statement was about so much more than just about me, it was his judgement on who was and wasn't good enough to exist. Me, my wife, the four gay men who were sitting behind us, in Ryan Davis' mind, we weren't even entitled to  _life._ In his mind, expressing a love he didn't agree with was infinitely worse than expressing  _hate_ , acting on hate. With those words, I didn't even want to share the same air as him anymore, and I wished that I could find a way to cease my breaths until we were no longer in the same room.

"Mr. Davis." Once the judge finally settled the room, the defense attorney sounded completely panicked. "Can you please clarify that statement for the court?"

"Of course." He flashed the hint of a schoolboy smile, and I could not even believe that he had the audacity to  _smile_ after what he'd said. I was beginning to believe that he was more than just a psychotic asshole, he was  _clearly_ deranged. "I'm just saying that I'm sure there are  _plenty_ of people who agree with me that  _certain_ people really don't have any reason to be alive, but it doesn't mean that they've tried to kill them. I may agree that she got what was coming to her, but I wasn't the one who did it."

If there is a point of no return in a trial, that moment may have been it. I watched the beads of sweat forming on Ryan Davis' attorney's head, and I knew that wasn't the answer they'd planned. What they'd  _actually_ practiced, I would never know, but blatantly admitting that he would have been  _happy_ if the woman who's attempted murder he was on trial for died was  _definitely_ not it. While the frenzied attorney attempted to regain control of the situation, a murmur began humming over the onlookers. My thoughts were running into each other so quickly that they made absolutely no sense. Somewhere over the din of my mind, I heard a small voice,  _we are going to win_. Hearing the worst thing that could ever possibly be said about me allowed that small seed of  _real_ confidence to take root in my brain. Maybe the man sitting there with a cocky half-smirk on his face believed he was going to be a martyr for his homophobic cause, I didn't know, I would probably  _never_ know, but as the judge recessed for lunch, I stopped thinking about everything but the fact that we could be  _very_ close to having that man put away for a long, long time.

* * *

Somehow, I'd ended up in the conference room with Brittany, our parents, Lizzie, Kate, Finn and Rachel. Everyone else had been so respectful in leaving that room as a sanctuary for us, and I was eternally grateful for that. I really didn't know what I was supposed to be thinking, what I was supposed to be  _feeling_ , so I stood with my forehead pressed against the window, looking out at the cherry blossoms that had formed on the trees below us. My breathing still hadn't resumed it's normal pattern, so I closed my eyes and tried to regulate it. I wasn't sure how long I had been standing there when Brittany pressed her body up against mine, wrapping her arms around my waist and holding me silently.

"Almost over." She breathed, her voice shaky.

"I think that it may be already over." I didn't open my eyes as I spoke, just let myself feel her heartbeat between my shoulder blades.

"God, I hope so."

After placing a kiss on the back of my neck, she slipped out of the room to use the bathroom. It was a while longer that I stood there, before registering that Brittany had been gone much longer than she should have been. I'd long stopped worrying about being too clingy while all of this was going on, and no one even bothered to ask me where I was going as I left the room. After opening the door to the restroom vestibule, I could hear Brittany shouting, could hear a blind fury that I'd  _never_ heard in her voice, even during the few times I'd seen her legitimately angry in her life. Torn between running immediately to her and letting her work out whatever she was trying to privately handle, I froze in my place when I heard Susan soothing her.

"Brittany, sweetheart, I know that you're angry but you're scaring me." Susan spoke softly. "This has been-"

"I can't help it!" She screamed over her mother. "How? How can I just sit in that room? How can I listen to him talk about her like she's  _nothing?_ How can he just say that her life didn't  _matter?_ This is the  _worst_ thing I've ever had to do in my life, mom, and I'm trying to be strong for Santana, but I feel like everything inside of me is falling apart!"

"Baby girl-"

"She's  _everything!_ I can't do this, her whole life she's been trying so hard to believe that she's important, and now this is the  _second time_ he's trying to take that away from her." She raged, and my heart clenched, hearing her slam her hands against something. I wanted to go to her, but I didn't know if I should, didn't know if it was better to give her time to work it out without putting on a brave face for me. "He sat up there in front of  _everyone_ and talked about her body, like that's all she was good for! Then he says that he didn't kill her, but she  _deserved_ to be dead! And for  _what?_ Because he doesn't believe people like us, like our friends, like the millions of other people in the world who are like us fit into his idea of normal?"

"Come here." Susan demanded forcefully, and I could hear Brittany stop banging her hands against whatever it was she was hitting and shuffle towards her mom. "None of this is fair, I  _know_ that. It's not fair that Santana has to relive everything she's been through, it's not fair that you have to hear these things about the woman you love so much, it's not fair that  _anyone_ has to witness the hateful words that disgusting excuse for a man has to say, but he's digging his own grave."

"It doesn't matter." She mumbled, her face probably buried in Susan's shoulder. "It doesn't make it better. He doesn't  _know_ her! He doesn't see how beautiful, and smart and thoughtful she is. He doesn't know that sometimes she wakes up in the middle of the night just to go stare our daughter because she loves her so much, or that she never leaves a room without kissing me, because we've been through so much and she won't take any chances, or that she brings the homeless man on our corner lunch every Saturday and will sometimes talk to him for close to an hour, or that she thinks she's a bad person because people have  _always_ told her that, but that she's really the most amazing person in the entire world. He'll say things that make her sound worthless when he never even _knew_ her. He knew one thing that doesn't even  _matter_ and he thinks that means  _something._ "

"He doesn't  _deserve_ to know her, honey. He doesn't deserve to see how incredibly good your wife is. He's not worthy of that."

"Mama, I'm scared-" I could hear the words get stuck in her throat as her sobs started again. They lasted several minutes before she composed herself. "What he said about believing someone doesn't deserve to live, that scared me."

"Oh honey." I could hear Susan's voice crack, could hear the helplessness that she was feeling. "Because you don't think  _he_ deserves to live?"

"Mmhmm."

"He doesn't." She admitted. "But I know you, and I know that you'd never  _rejoice_ in the loss of another person's life, no matter how horrible that person is. The way you feel right now, it's your instinct to protect the one you love, it's nowhere near the same as what he was saying."

"I don't like this feeling. I don't like feeling so helpless, I don't like feeling so angry."

"I know. But you're not helpless, you're holding on to Santana, you're making sure she's okay. You've been so strong, Brittany, and I'm so proud of you."

I couldn't stand there listening anymore, I  _needed_ to go to my wife, needed to comfort her and tell her that  _she_ was everything too. It wasn't something I could keep from her, the fact that I'd been eavesdropping on her conversation, and I knew she wouldn't be mad about it. She needed to hear that I appreciated her strength, but that she had a right to break too, God knows  _I_  had when  _she_ was the one doing the majority of the suffering. That's what love was, being as strong as you could for each other, but knowing that sometimes, you'd break for the one who meant the world to you.

"Britt." I said softly, revealing my presence.

"Santana." She answered, startled that I was there, but making a move to wrap her arms around me. "How long have you been here?"

"A little while. I wanted to see if you were okay when you were gone for a while."

"I am." Her voice wavered as she said it, and then shook her head.

"You're not. No one is okay right now baby, and I don't think we're supposed to be. You've been so strong and so amazing, but you're allowed to have a breaking point too. I love you, a whole lot, and you don't have to hide in bathrooms when you're angry and scared. We cry together, we rage together, and when the jury confirms that this  _asshole_ is guilty after he told everyone that he would have been happy if I was dead, we'll celebrate together." I held out my pinky, and she linked hers with mine before pulling them to her lips and kissing them.

"I love you a whole lot too." She said quietly, and I felt my cheeks wet with a different kind of tears. "We knew it was going to get harder before it got easier, but I wish I'd known just  _how_ hard it was going to get."

"Yeah." I sighed, kissing the hollow of her throat, the spot where I could feel how fast her heart was still beating. "Me too."

* * *

Like we did almost every day during the break (because seriously, no one had ever really had the stomach to eat more than a bite of a vending machine candy bar or drink a few sips of coffee) we composed ourselves before we had to return to our spots in the courtroom. For maybe the first time since we'd taken those seats, it wasn't just Brittany acting as my life raft, it was the two of us holding on to each other, keeping each other afloat, knowing that the other would never let go. This was  _it,_ Kate's cross-examination of the man who'd basically completely screwed himself two hours earlier. Before we'd gone back in, she'd promised that she would make it airtight, that she'd use his arrogance to hammer the final nail into the coffin and I could do nothing but nod, desperately waiting to see how she'd do that. She was scary, I'd witnessed that in the previous days where she blew as many holes in the defense as she possibly could, and I'd never been so grateful to have a person on my side.

She started slow, forcing him to reconfirm facts, reminding the jury of his arrogance with every single eye roll and lazy smirk. Brittany looked at me quickly, and I nodded to her, knowing what she was asking, before she placed our joined hands on the top of the divider. They were clearly visible to Ryan Davis there, and I saw the quick narrowing of his eyes, the annoyance that his words, his actions, his  _beliefs_ would never break us. I didn't see it as an antagonizing gesture, although  _he_  probably did, it was simply a display of our strength, our beautiful love that no one could ever take away.

"Mr. Davis, you went directly home from Private Eyes on September 18, 2015?" Kate asked.

"Yes."

"You didn't stop anywhere on your way home?"

"No."

"You didn't have drinks at The Coliseum Bar?"

"I don't know, it was four years ago. I don't remember if I stopped for a drink." The man snarled, and the fact that he was lying was pretty obvious.

"But you just said you didn't stop anywhere on your way home. Is the answer ' _no'_ or  _'I don't recall'?_ "

"I guess it's I don't recall."

"Okay. Well let me refresh your memory then. According to your American Express statement, you had a bar tab closed out at Coliseum, a bar on 58th Street and 8th Avenue, a block from where Santana Lopez-Pierce was found, at 1:56AM on September 19th. Do you recall  _that?"_

"I went to that bar a lot. And that night wasn't of any significance to me, so I don't remember the specifics."

"And yet you remember leaving Private Eyes at 9:45, correct?"

"Yes, that's when I left."

"Sounds pretty specific to me." The confidence oozed from Kate's voice.

Mentally, I fist-pumped, thrilled that Kate had just proven two things. Ryan Davis was still in the neighborhood  _minutes_ before I was attacked, and that the story he'd originally told didn't match up with that. She continued to ask questions that shed doubt on every single word he'd spoken in his direct examination, and even with his cocky demeanor, I could see the man begin to falter. It was then that I realized that even as he spoke the words about me not having a right to live, he hadn't  _believed_ that he'd be found guilty. He didn't believe that there was  _anything_ wrong with that statement. That realization sent chills up my spine, and I instinctively moved closer to Brittany, wondering if she'd realized the same thing.

"You're aware that stalking is against the law?" She asked him, close to two hours later.

"Yes." He couldn't exactly say  _no,_ considering he was already serving a prison sentence for that.

"And you're aware that following and photographing a person without their consent can be considered stalking?"

"Only if there's an intent to instill fear."

"You don't believe that being a constant presence near someone's home and place of work would instill fear."

"Not if they don't know you're doing it."

Again, I got chills from his words. The thought of someone constantly lurking without their presence known was so much  _more_ fearful than  _knowing_ they were there. Had I known he was around, my guard would have been up, and I would have  _never_ allowed myself to let it down. I couldn't understand how anyone would think any different, but then again,  _nothing_ Ryan Davis believed coincided with my own feelings.

"Okay. And you're aware that homicide or attempted homicide is against the law?"

"Objection!" His attorney called out. "My client has not been convicted of either of those crimes."

"I'm not speaking about him, Your Honor." Kate answered quickly. "I have a point here."

"Get to it quickly, counsel." The judge sighed. "Mr. Davis, answer the question."

"Yes, I'm aware of that."

"But you said that Mrs. Lopez-Pierce brought the crime that was committed against her upon herself, correct?"

"That's not-" He started, and Kate cut him off immediately.

"Yes or no, did you or did you not say that earlier today?"

"Yes, I did."

"I have no further questions."

She didn't, but  _I_ still did, still had so many things I wanted to know that would probably never be answered. That was a whole different set of issues that I'd have to make my peace with though, I'd have to come to terms with the fact that as freeing as it would be to know  _why_ he hated people like me,  _why,_ without knowing anything about me, he believed that I'd be better off dead,  _why,_ of all the people out there, he'd fixated on me, singled me out, thought that ending my life would make some kind of statement, it probably wasn't in the cards. After everything else, that was easier,  _that_ I could handle, as long as he was locked away, far from everyone and everything that I loved. I'd survive, and I'd thrive, because although there was still a lot I'd have to make peace with, I'd proven myself capable of so much.

It felt like the day had gone on forever, but I tried to remain alert as each side gave their closing statements. Kate talked about the forensics, talked about how I'd described everything, right down to the scar that marked Ryan Davis, to the police when I'd spoken to them in January. She reminded the jury about the man's  _blatant disregard_ for the law, both with how closely he followed me, and how he  _condoned_ murder, even if he swore he wasn't the one who'd done it. In her plea for the maximum sentence, she cited Finn's testimony about the ravaged state of my body, about the doctor's belief that most people who'd been injured as I had would not have survived. She reminded them that he was  _not_ a first time offender, and being lenient could cause him to repeat his actions, that his words lacked compassion or any type of remorse. The defense, in turn, again went back to claiming there was nothing more than circumstantial evidence, that Ryan Davis' presence in a bar near where I was attacked did not mean that he'd been the attacker. He asked the jury to take into account the character witnesses who swore under oath that his client was an  _excellent_ man, and to remember just how long it had taken me to finally speak to the police, to consider that I may not have been a credible witness. When it was all over, when the judge asked the jury to convene in the morning, reminding them, once again, not to discuss the case outside of the room, I stood up and felt like I could collapse from emotional exhaustion right there on my feet.

* * *

By the time we made it home, Rosa had already put Annie to bed and Brittany and I stood over her crib, just looking down at her for a long time. We didn't exchange words, didn't even  _know_ what to say to each other. I showered first and sat on the bed, waiting for Brittany to be finished. When she came out, I knew she'd been crying again and my heart broke just a little bit more. It seemed like an eternity, watching her put on pajamas, waiting for her to curl up beside me. After she finally did, I pushed her wet hair aside and kissed her so softly that I almost couldn't feel her lips against my own.

"I  _know_ , Brittany." I said, looking into her eyes after another long period of silence.

"What?"

"That I'm not  _nothing._ " It was hardly a whisper, but the words were out there.

That was all it took for the sobs to overtake her body, for her to completely break in front of me for the first time in all of the weeks that she'd been holding me while  _I_ cried. Lying back, I pulled her so that she was on top of me and I held her tightly, whispered to her, but never asked her to stop. Tears escaped from my own eyes and I could feel the tremor coursing through my body, but somehow, knowing that we'd made it through the entire trial, knowing that all that was left was the verdict, gave me so much strength. My wife had held me through it all, and in that moment, it was my turn to hold her while she let out everything she'd kept inside while being strong for me. I'd meant every word I'd said to her earlier in the day, that I didn't want her to hide from me even when she thought I couldn't handle her breaking point, and I was grateful that she'd heard me. Actually being  _capable_ of this gave me a strange sense of empowerment, and I latched onto that as I held Brittany tightly. Time seemed to stand still while we lay there together, and when the last sob hiccuped from her body, she opened her eyes and looked so far into my soul that I could feel her warmth.

"It's all I've ever wanted you to know." She mumbled, her lips close to mine, her voice hoarse from her tears. "For you to realize that."

"I know. And you've been trying to tell me for so long. I didn't know  _this_ was what would make me realize."

"Yeah." She tried to laugh, but instead let a few more tears fall. "Me either."

"Now we just wait. But right now, I'm okay, you're okay, and  _everything_ is going to be alright." I repeated the words she'd said to me so many times throughout the entire ordeal.

"That's my line." She placed another feather light kiss on my lips and actually let out a real laugh.

"I'm borrowing it for tonight, and for as long as you need to hear it."


	69. No Matter What

Patience is a virtue, my mother had been saying it to me for my entire life, but it was definitely one that I  _didn't_  possess. As we sat in the courthouse conference room while the jury was deliberating, I couldn't keep myself still and I felt like my skin was crawling with anxiety. As I paced the length of the room for the hundredth time, I tried to follow some of that ridiculous  _Secret_ bullshit that Kurt was always spewing,  _you become what you think about the most, you attract what you think about the most._ As much as I didn't believe in  _any_ of that "power of positive thinking" nonsense, I was out of ideas for how to keep myself calm, out of ideas to occupy my mind. So, as I walked, wringing my hands, I pictured the foreman (forewoman?) of the jury, a girl who looked like she was barely out of high school, reading the world  _guilty_ over and over again. I pictured Ryan Davis being led out of the room in handcuffs, I pictured him behind bars, for the rest of his life (the attempted murder charge alone carried a maximum penalty of  _life_ ), away from me, my wife, and daughter, away from the world where he could try to infect others with his sickening beliefs.

I let my eyes scan the room, my parents sat with their heads close together, my mother's lips moving in prayer, Susan was speaking softly to Annie (who Brittany and I decided to bring with us, for both of our comfort, since we would be in the courtroom for only a short period of time), Stephen and Liz, obviously saying nothing but hopeful things. Finn and Rachel were hunched together, and she seemed to be comforting him. Brittany finally walked back in the room, carrying two cups of herbal tea, one of which she pressed into my hand before leaning in to kiss my forehead. The feel of her lips against me let my heart rate slow slightly, but I still couldn't shake the feeling that I was going to jump out of my own skin. I wasn't naive, I didn't think that a conviction would immediately repair all if the damage that had been done to me, a lot of it could  _never_ be undone. That was the main point of Kate's request for a maximum sentence, I would be living with the repercussions of his actions for the rest of my life, and so should he. But still, hearing him found guilty would validate so much for me, and it would be another step, no, a giant  _leap_ towards a happier future.

"Thank you." I whispered to Brittany, for the tea, for the kiss, for  _everything_.

She shrugged, giving me a small smile, before taking Annie from her mom and pulling me toward the window. Neither of us said anything for several minutes, we just stood there, arms wrapped around each other, the baby sandwiched between our bodies, looking up at the spring sun peeking through the windows of the Lower Manhattan office buildings. Closing my eyes, I tried to soak up the sunlight, tried to soak up the love that was radiating off of Brittany, tried to soak up the sound of Annie's laughter as the sun hit her face. I needed to remember that no matter  _what_ happened when the verdict came in, as impossible as it would seem if it wasn't the one we were hoping for, that I was going to be  _okay_. I was strong, I was capable, and I was better than him.

"I'm glad we brought her." Brittany said, pushing Annie's rapidly growing hair out of her face.

"So am I." I opened my eyes again to meet my wife's. "If we hear what we've been hoping to hear, I want to be able to tell her someday that she was in the same building, waiting with her Aunt Liz for the news. I want to tell her that she was more instrumental than she'll ever know in getting me to this point. That  _both of you_ were such a big part of why I'm standing here today. And if we  _don't_ hear it, I'll need her to remind me why  _trying_ was still worth so much, why it's helped me heal more than I ever thought possible."

"I just hope-" The fear was evident in her eyes, and I quickly cut her off, not wanting her to have to struggle through the words that we were  _both_ already struggling with in our minds.

"I know Britt, there have been so many setbacks, and having another will hurt like hell. But we're strong, the two of us, and I'm pretty sure we can make it through anything."

"This woman you've become, Santana, the woman I've always known was inside of you, amazes me more every single day. A year ago, six months ago, even, you would have thought what you've done was impossible. But you  _did_ it."

"I know." I kissed her lips softly, feeling the pride seep into my body, allowing it to help keep the confidence I had built up inside of me. "No matter what happens next, we continue to move forward."

"No matter what." Brittany echoed. "I love you."

"I know, and I love you too, both of you."

* * *

Another three hours passed, and the confidence I'd deluded myself into feeling seemed to quickly replace itself with sheer panic. What was taking them so long to decide Ryan Davis' fate, and by extension,  _my_  fate? For the first time, I actually began to think about what it would  _mean_ if he wasn't found guilty. I hadn't truly let myself consider it, knowing that if I  _had_ , everything would have been so much harder to get through. But the brave mask I was putting on began to crack as I let myself sink down on the couch between my parents, let my mother stroke my hair and whisper words of encouragement to me. If he  _wasn't_  found guilty, he'd finish his prison sentence for the other crime (the  _other_ crime,  _another_  woman out there who'd been victimized by him, the thought was terrifying) and then be released back into the world. Sure, there would be restraining orders, or whatever protection is offered for crime victims, but Kate had said it multiple times in the courtroom, the man had  _a complete disregard for the law_ , those things would mean next to nothing. It would be hard enough to feel safe _with_ him locked up, how could I _ever_ learn to feel safe if he  _wasn't._ My mind began to run away with me, and dozens of horrifying hypothetical scenarios began to course through it. I needed to stop thinking about it,  _needed_ to go back to the power of positive thinking crap, or else I was going to have a nervous breakdown right in front of everyone who was trying to keep me from it.

"The jury is back in." Kate appeared in the doorway, thankfully breaking my dark train of thought, and I jumped to my feet. "Come back downstairs now."

" _Mija."_ My father caught my arm before I joined myself with Brittany. "I just wanted to tell you that I love you."

" _Gracias, Papí._ I needed to hear that." I sighed, hugging him tightly. "Let's just hope that all this positive thinking and the novenas that Mamí and Rosa have been praying will actually work."

"The jury wasn't out very long, Santanita. That's usually a sign that it was cut and dry, and we all saw what happened in there. I'm confident this will be good for you."

"When did you become such an optimist?" I smiled slowly at him, so happy that my relationship with my family was better, so happy that I wasn't resenting their presence as they supported me through all of it.

"Once I realized how many good things I missed out on by only seeing the bad sides. You, yourself,  _corazóncita,_ are more of an optimist than you think."

After giving my father another smile, grateful for his words, I kissed Annie, who was in Lizzie's arms and grabbed hold of Brittany's hand. The two of them would wait outside for us, and I murmured another  _thank you_ to my sister-in-law. Just outside of the doors, Britt grabbed me and pulled me in for a kiss, allowing our hearts to press together, and I knew it was as much for her sake as for mine. Pulling away slowly, she grazed her fingers over my scars, silently reminding me that even the deepest wounds will heal with time. I brought her fingertips to my lips and held them there, feeling her pulse like I did so often. It was the last of so many times that we'd be walking in through those doors together, and the finality of the situation hit me hard.  _Whatever_ happened, we couldn't change it, but we could handle it together.

The courtroom was bursting again as we sat down, and  _again_ I was too riveted by what was about to occur to look at who was in there with us. From behind, I felt Finn's hand on my shoulder, reassuring me, letting me know that no matter how hard life got, I aways had people who cared about me. It was amazing how everyone had let me know that on such a difficult day, amazing that despite  _everything,_ there were so many people who cared deeply for me. With Rachel's words of encouragement, the well meaning teasing from Kurt, the fierce hug that Quinn had given me, the text messages from everyone who  _hadn't_ seen me while I hid out in the conference room, I felt fortified. As the doors opened behind us again, I didn't look back, I'd given up letting Ryan Davis have the satisfaction of thinking that I  _cared_ when he entered the room. Instead, I caught one more glimpse of Brittany's eyes before we both turned forward and waited for the judge to enter from his chambers.

"All rise for the Honorable Judge Michael Blackwell." I stood up, feeling a little dizzy that after so many days, I was standing for Judge Blackwell's entrance for the final time.

Once everyone had settled back down, I scanned my eyes over the jury, the twelve people who made the decision that would change my life forever, no matter which way they decided. Finally, I settled my gaze on the girl who would speak the words, and I watched as she shifted her weight between legs, waiting for the judge to give her direction. It was a heavy thing, I realized, being on a jury, deciding the fate of so many more people than just the defendant. The girl had her eyebrows knit, taking it all so seriously, and I was glad for that, because at her age, I probably would have seen the whole thing as a joke, an excuse to get out of work, I  _never_ would have felt the gravity of what was really happening. When the judge finally called on her to speak, I felt Brittany's grip on my hand tighten, felt my stomach lurch and my heart rate increase in anticipation, felt the air suddenly turn colder as a chill coursed through me, I didn't move, didn't even  _breathe_  as she opened her mouth.

"On the charge of stalking in the first degree, we the jury find Ryan Davis  _guilty."_

_One._ My heart was hammering in my chest, blood rushing in my ears.

"On the charge of menacing in the second degree, we the jury find Ryan Davis  _guilty."_

_Two._ I let myself take in one small, shallow breath.

"On the charge of harassment in the first degree, we the jury find Ryan Davis  _guilty."_

_Three._ Another breath, deeper.

"On the charge of attempted homicide in the first degree, we the jury find Ryan Davis  _guilty."_

_Four._ My breaths became gasping, desperate.

_"_ We the jury believe Ryan Davis committed said crimes on the basis of the victim's sexuality, and therefore fall under the New York State Penal Code Article 485 as hate crimes and his sentence should reflect that"

_Five._ The tears started pouring down my face.

_Guilty._ I couldn't breathe any longer, I couldn't process  _anything_. There was an eruption of noise in the courtroom, but I hardly heard it as I dropped my head and wept, a strange physiological response to the words I had been  _waiting_ for. Brittany's whole body covered mine, her own tears falling on the back of my neck, and I knew she was overcome in exactly the same way. It was the weirdest feeling, completely different from what I'd expected to feel. Honestly, when I thought about what would happen when I heard those words,  _guilty, guilty, guilty, guilty,_ I'd pictured myself feeling elation, the urge to jump up and celebrate. But an overwhelming joy didn't come, instead, I could feel nothing but  _relief_. Relief that it was over, mostly, with the best possible outcome, but also relief that I wouldn't have spend the rest of my life wondering  _how_ I could have been better up there, how I could have made the jury believe me. I knew myself, and I  _knew_ that if it hadn't gone the way I'd hoped, the self blame would have risen up and tried to crush me.

Rationally, I knew I should pull myself together and look up to see what was going on all over the rest of the room, but my mind shoved all rational thoughts aside as I sat crying such a different kind of tears than I'd ever cried.  _Ryan Davis was no longer a threat to me,_ it was the first time I'd ever been able to believe that, and despite the fact that I knew my struggle was far from over, it was something  _so_ major. For just a moment, I let myself forget about the nightmares, forget about the scars, forget about the urges for something to quiet my mind, and just let myself feel Brittany's arms around me, let myself hope for a future where things would be  _normal._ When I finally pulled myself together, I mouthed the words  _it's finally over_ to my wife, and she responded by cupping my cheek with the hand that wasn't still linked with mine and letting out a sob that captured that same utter relief that I felt. When I looked around the room (eyes avoiding the  _other side_ ) I saw the same thing everywhere else. We weren't celebrating, we  _couldn't_ celebrate, I'd realized, because that would cheapen  _everything_ that I'd gone through, would take away from the fact that even a guilty verdict didn't erase what had happened to me, we were all just quietly grateful.

"Your Honor." I could hear Kate saying as Brittany used the heel of her hand to wipe my eyes and then her own. "I ask you, when sentencing Mr. Davis, to take into account his prior conviction, lack of remorse and the impact statement, written by Mrs. Lopez-Pierce, that the victim's advocate will now read."

In the midst of everything else, I'd actually forgotten about the sentencing, forgotten that weeks earlier, I'd written a statement to be read before Ryan Davis was given his punishment. Still clinging to Brittany on one side, and joined by my mother's reassuring hand on the other, I sat quietly while the man who'd been appointed as my advocate read the words that I wasn't sure I'd find the strength to say out loud. It was different than what I'd said as I gave my testimony during the trial, it was so much  _more_  than just the facts of how my life had been altered, it was the raw, unadulterated emotion that I felt. There were sniffles all around me as the people who loved me heard about my panic in the hospital at seeing Brittany's blood the night Annie was born, about feeling like I was under attack again on Halloween, about  _never_ going out at night without seeing a glimpse of Ryan Davis' face in my head, about my fears for the future, all of the uncertainty that still existed inside of my head. It was hard, even for me, to hear the words out loud, and I was the one who had  _written_  them. I pulled Brittany's hand up to my heart, knowing she was feeling them the hardest, knowing that she shared so many of my fears from a totally different perspective. When the statement was finally complete, I let out a loud, shuddering breath and once again, waited.

"Mr. Davis, the crimes that you've been convicted of are very serious ones. When you chose to take the life of Santana Lopez-Pierce into your own hands, you were fully aware of the consequences that your actions would lead to. Both physically and emotionally, said actions will remain with the victim for the rest of her life. You've sat in this courtroom showing a callous disregard for both human life and the laws of this state and country and a complete lack of remorse for the crimes that you committed. The law allows for me to issue a maximum sentence of life in prison, and you've made it very easy for me to hand that punishment down to you. Mrs. Lopez-Pierce did not get to choose her own fate on the day you began stalking her, she did not have a say in the crimes that were committed against her, but you've been convicted by a jury of your peers, and now  _I'm_ choosing  _your_ fate for you, the one that you set in to motion with your own actions. Ryan Davis, I hereby sentence you to life in prison."

"Thank God." Brittany breathed.

" _Gracias a dios._ " My mother whispered at the same time.

I didn't hear anything else of what the judge had to say, I knew there was some kind of talk about parole in the  _very_ distant future, but I'd stopped listening. Instead, I finally let myself look over at Ryan Davis. It didn't surprise me that despite a conviction for his crimes, his demeanor didn't change. The court had found him guilty, and yet, in his mind, I was sure that he didn't believe he'd done anything wrong. I knew that if they'd found him not guilty, I still would have still known that he  _was,_ but that was different. He didn't believe he wasn't guilty because he hadn't been the one there that night, he believed it because in his mind, killing me wasn't a  _crime_. I allowed myself one more shudder at the thought before locking it up in one of the boxes in my mind. Yes, it mattered that there were people who truly thought that way, but it wasn't what mattered  _most._ What mattered more than anything was how  _I_ thought about me, and my own self-acceptance was so much greater than it had ever been.

No one moved as the bailiff handcuffed Ryan Davis and began to lead him out of the room. His eyes locked with mine as he passed, and I didn't look away. The hate that burned from them caused the bile to rise in my throat, but I swallowed it, knowing that it all would be locked away in a prison cell with him for a long, long time. When he was finally out of the courtroom, people began to stand up and mull about, and before I knew it, so many different sets of arms wrapped around me. Brittany stayed just a fingertip's length away as the same people hugged her, shooting me questioning glances every few moments to make sure that I was okay. When I felt a pair of big arms squeezing me, I thought it was Finn, hugging me for the tenth time, but when I looked up, I couldn't  _believe_ who was standing there.

"Dave Karofsky?" I gasped, hardly recognizing him after so many years.

"Yeah, it's me." He smiled that lazy smile of his. "Burt told my dad what was going on, and I was in New York for work, so..."

"I can't believe you're here. Thank you, so much for coming." It was a weird thing to say, but it seemed like the only thing I  _knew_ to say to the people who'd been in the room with me. There were so many emotions that I was feeling, but gratitude seemed to be the easiest to express toward them.

"Hey, we were only friends, if you can even call it that, for a short time, but you were probably the only person who really  _understood_ what I was going through, that fight to hide who we were so we could be on top of something that actually meant  _nothing._ I just, I don't know, felt like I should be here for this or something."

"Yeah, we were pretty ridiculous back then, huh? You're not still fighting, right?"

"No, not at all." He laughed a little. "I'm okay with who I am, finally. I'm living in Chicago, have been seeing a really great guy for a while, I'm just happy, for the first time in my life."

"Good. I'm glad that you are." I looked over to Britt who stopped talking to Mercedes to give a small wave to Dave. "Despite all of  _this,_ I'm really happy too."

"I can't say I'm surprised. You told me once, when we were pretending to make out in the back of my truck, that all you really wanted was for the future to come, a future where you could be with Brittany and you wouldn't care anymore what  _anyone_  thought about it."

"Yeah, I  _don't_ care anymore. It's crazy, someone asked me to join the golf team in high school and I went ballistic, like that was the worst thing in the world. But now, after the  _real_ worst thing happened to me, I'm still not scared of having the  _best_  thing I ever hoped for."

We talked for a bit longer, Brittany coming over to us after getting the baby back from her sister and introducing her to  _Mami's fake ex-boyfriend._ I smiled, playing with Britt's fingers as I watched Dave hold our daughter, the baby looking up at him with eyes wide. My parents came over and joked with him about the  _open door policy_ they'd had (on the few occasions they'd actually been home while I was "dating" him) and how it should have been  _Brittany_ they were watching out for the whole time. It was so strange, so  _normal,_ in spite of where we were, that I actually let a few more tears spill. Gently, my wife leaned down to kiss them away, reminding me that it was okay to feel however I wanted to feel. Once we finally said our goodbyes and Brittany took the baby back, I pulled her with me toward Kate, the woman who I needed to thank for  _so much._

"Kate." I started, but before I could even say anything else, I found myself wrapping my arms around the smaller woman and letting my sobs of gratitude burst forth. "I don't even know how I'm supposed to thank you for this."

"You don't have to. Trust me, locking that guy up for what he did was one of the  _best_ moments of my career."

"I was really impressed with the way you got him to trip over himself up there yesterday. I mean, seriously, you're like really awesome at what you do, and I'm  _so_ glad you were on  _our_ side." I gushed, and then felt my cheeks flame at sounding like I had a weird schoolgirl crush on the ADA. Brittany smirked at my reaction and I squeezed her hand, she  _knew_ she was the only woman for me, even if I _was_  fawning over Kate pretty hard.

"You had the truth on your side too, Santana. And I  _may_ have had a personal stake in this that made me fight even  _harder_  than I normally would."

"Are you..?" The heat in my face increased as I realized that was a  _completely_ rude question to ask her. "I'm sorry, that was so inappropriate."

"It's okay." She laughed. "I'm a woman in a power suit, constantly ripping men to shreds in the courtroom, I get it a lot. But no, I'm not. My sister is though, she told my mom when she was six that she was going to marry a girl, and she  _did._ She and her wife have a little boy not much younger than your daughter now, and I've always been so impressed with her for never being scared to be who she is. I just can't stomach people who try to take that away from her, from  _you_ , from your kids, from anyone. But Ryan Davis got what was coming to him, and although it doesn't change the world, even a small victory is still a victory."

"Yeah, it is."

When everyone finally began to leave the courtroom, I watched Mamí look towards Ryan Davis' mother, who was still sitting in her seat, shaking her head. I thought that she was angry with the verdict, but when her eye's met my mom's and she mouthed the words  _I'm so sorry_ , I realized that she was just in shock at how her life had turned out. A pinch of sadness squeezed my heart as I thought about how  _she_ was a victim too, a victim of who her son turned out to be, a victim of her own self-doubts for how she could have done something,  _anything,_ differently. My mother gave her a tight nod of both sympathy and appreciation of her words before walking out of that room and never looking back. Brittany held Annie with one hand and me with the other, and I passed her a muslin blanket, wanting our daughter covered as we walked down the steps with the throng of reporters around us. Politely, I declined to answer their questions, Kate could say what she wanted, but I was  _done_ speaking about it in front of strangers. It was a bigger deal than I'd imagined, the verdict of the case, and for the first time in my life, I felt grateful that there was so much solidarity. Solidarity with Kurt and Blaine, with Dave Karofsky and Rachel's dads, with Kate's sister who I didn't even know, and more importantly, with the people who  _weren't_ like me, but didn't care, because at the end of the day, we were all still one and the same. That was so very much the  _point_ of solidarity, of why I couldn't understand why people saw us as different. We still bled, we still cried, we still loved, we still hurt, just like everyone else.

Breaking away from everyone else, I mumbled to Finn to let everyone know that we'd meet them soon, but I just needed some time first. Pulling Brittany along with me, we crossed Centre Street into the park I'd stared at through the window for weeks, at the cherry blossoms in full bloom. Without a second thought, I let go of Brittany's hand, kicked off my shoes, the shoes I  _never_ wanted to wear again after walking on the same floors as Ryan Davis, and climbed right into the fountain that I'd seen so many times. Maybe it was crazy, but something about getting in there felt like washing so much away, even though the water only came halfway up my calves. A spiritual cleansing in eight inches of water, or something. As ridiculous as it sounds, there was something so refreshing about the mist of the water that hit my face, and I let it mix with the tears that were streaming down my face again.

"What are you doing?" Brittany asked, wide eyed, with a smile playing at the edges of her mouth.

"I have absolutely  _no idea._ " I admitted, laughing through the tears and holding out my hand for her. "Come here."

"San." Tears streamed down her cheeks as she tightened her grasp on the baby, kicked off her own shoes, and climbed over the edge of the fountain. "I don't...I don't even know why I'm crying."

"Neither do I." I admitted. "I don't know why I'm doing  _anything_ right now. It all feels so confusing."

We stood there, Annie still covered with the blanket, protected from the spray of the water and just held onto each other and cried. I didn't care what we looked like there, didn't care that the passers-by probably thought we were entirely insane, I just let myself feel everything. Brittany was the first to stop crying, and when she did, I moved my hands to her cheeks and pressed our foreheads together, letting our lips barely touch. She looked so beautiful, face wet, pink petals falling down behind her, holding our baby girl, that I just wanted to stop everything I was feeling and remember only how she looked in that moment, forever.

"What happens now?" She asked, her free hand resting over one of mine on her face.

"I have absolutely no idea, I never thought this far ahead. I think we just keep doing what we've been doing, healing the best way we know how. This changes so much, but at the same time, it doesn't really change anything at all."

"Yeah." Brittany removed my hands from her face and leaned down to kiss my neck, understanding exactly what I meant. "It's better though, even if it doesn't change anything, knowing that he's locked up, and for you, knowing how much strength you really have."

"It is."

Wordlessly, Brittany shifted the baby into my arms and I held her tight. Lifting the blanket just enough so the two of us could see her face, Annie looked up at us, maybe trying to figure out why both of her moms were soaking wet, standing in the middle of what looked like a pink snowstorm. Britt kissed her on one cheek and I kissed the other, just wanting her to understand the magnitude of our emotions. As usual, she laughed, reaching one of her little hands out to grab Brittany's chin.

"Mama." She giggled, then turned her head towards me. "Ma. Mi."

"Oh my God. Did she just...?" Brittany couldn't even finish and I started nodding frantically, another kind of tears forming in my eyes. It was the first time she'd ever verbally differentiated between the two of us, and I pulled her closer, pulled my wife closer, needing, after  _all_ the feelings that had passed through me in all the weeks we'd been stuck inside, just to feel  _that_ , the beautiful, heart clenching, incredible feeling that I couldn't even put words to. "Sweetheart, you don't even know what that means today."

"Something happy, because even though it was good news in there, I couldn't have thought of today as a  _happy_ day. But now, today's the first time you ever said Mamí, and that means that I can hold onto  _that_  happiness forever. Thank you,  _mi amor._ "

Annie said it over and over again, pleased by the reaction she'd gotten from both of us. When our feet started to wrinkle and the mist started to seep under the baby's blanket, we silently made the decision to get out, to go home, change our clothes and go meet everyone who meant something to us in the restaurant. We  _still_ weren't celebrating, we were just commemorating, marking the end of the trial, marking the beginning of living in a world where my tormentor didn't exist. The relief spread over my body once again and I pulled on the wet sleeve of Brittany's dress, turning her to look at me one last time before we walked away from the courthouse, hopefully never to return.

" _In fifty years or so, it's gonna change, you know? But oh, it's heaven, nowadays._ " I sang softly to her, the only words I could use to describe that nothing was constant, that we still had so much to overcome, but for just that one moment of time, standing in the park with my wife and daughter, I wanted to pretend that nothing else existed. "I just, I want to feel okay today."

"Then we will. We'll take everything else as it comes, and today, we'll be okay."

 


	70. In Repair

The first few weeks following the trial were strange, to say the least. It seemed like the moment I walked out of the courtroom, I was walking into the rest of my life, into a new  _after._ The last time I'd gone through something like that, although in the completely opposite way, I'd forgotten so much of the  _before_ that I'd become a completely different person, like one devastating moment in time separated the Santana that I was from the Santana that I'd become, and no parts could coexist. This was different, this wasn't about  _forgetting_  the past, it was about learning to live with it, to become who I was  _because_ of it as I made my way into the future. It wasn't like things had really changed all that much, I was just working on my mindset, attempting to allow the trial to act as a catharsis and allow me a fresh start. Brittany had gone back to work, she  _had_ to after taking so much personal time, and it was such a different feeling for me then when she'd gone back to work after giving birth to Annie. Back then, I was afraid of floundering, afraid of how I'd handle myself after being basically glued to her side for months. I didn't have that feeling again, instead, I felt another sense of relief when the baby and I walked her down to the Village and she kissed us goodbye before closing the door and resuming normal life. We were going back to the way things were supposed to be, while at the same time moving into the future we had been waiting for.

There was a new feeling of determination inside of me during those weeks, a determination not to fall off of the path I'd so arduously constructed. I'd taken the easy way out before, and I wasn't going to do that again, wasn't going to allow myself to believe I was okay without continuing to put in the work that would help me to  _stay_  that way. I didn't think that I was going to suddenly stop needing to take my anxiety medication, suddenly begin living in Happy Land, I knew that  _happy_ took insane amounts of work from me, it always had, and probably always would. In an effort to find ways to calm myself, I signed Annie and I up for Mommy and Me Yoga, where I learned the proper way to breathe, learned about chakras and energy, how to bring myself back from the edge of panic. We still went on Mondays to Brooklyn, where I  _still_  wasn't great about  _talking_ much, but being in the room with people like Rosa, like Benny, like all the others gave me a much needed sense of peace. Most importantly, I worked out a new schedule with Dr. Collins, one that would let me go for my morning jog, get Annie to sleep in her stroller, and then twice a week, while my beautiful daughter was in dreamland on the other side of the room, I'd continue to talk to the man who had helped me to overcome so much, continue to work through everything else I still had to conquer.

We still talked about the past, how the nightmares hadn't completely subsided, how I still had moments of paranoia where I thought I saw Ryan Davis on the street, despite knowing he was under lock and key, and I'd fight my own mind's tricks, fight the urge to flee, but more importantly, we talked about the future. For all of the time I'd dreamed about what was to come (minus the three years where I had no reason to hope for  _anything_ ) it was always about ending up with Brittany. But that wasn't a future anymore, it was a present, a reality, and I began to talk about  _myself_ , what I planned to do, how I saw myself thriving of my own accord. It was something I'd never done before, rational future planning, and it was something that was so much more therapeutic than I'd ever imagined. There wasn't much I had figured out, but it was the process that mattered, the realization that I actually  _had_  hopes and dreams that could be turned into actual  _goals_. I didn't have it all together, not yet, but I knew that if I continued to put in the work, I would absolutely get there.

Brittany continued her therapy too, knowing that even though she had made peace with what had happened, even though she'd heard with her own ears that Ryan Davis had known about me long before he'd seen the kiss, it was all too easy to slip back into familiar patterns of self blame and remorse. Together, we continued our couple's therapy, insistent upon sticking with it until we were confident enough in our ability to communicate with one another when things got hard that we'd no longer need the crutch of that room. We were in repair, our own individual selves, the life we'd built together, everything.

On the first Saturday of June, I woke up to the sound of Brittany humming to the baby, who sat between her legs on our bed. As I rolled over and opened my eyes, I smiled softly at the two people who would always mean more to me than anyone else in the world. A lot would change as time went by (I could see the changes in the length of my daughters little limbs, in the sound of my wife's voice, in my own face in the mirror) and change was good, scary as it was, especially the kind that signaled growth, but the things that matter the most, that deep in your chest, unconditional love  _doesn't_ ever change. That love had been a constant force that dragged me through the fire and helped me emerge alive on the other side, and it wouldn't ever stop pulling me through whatever was to come in the future. Knowing that made everything else feel slightly less terrifying.

"Well good morning lazy bones." Brittany giggled, and by the looks of it, she'd already showered and dressed both herself and the baby. "We've been waiting for you to get up."

"Never would have thought I'd see the day where sleeping until 5:17 made me  _lazy._ If I'd have woken up this early a year ago, you would have thought it was a sign of an impeding apocalypse." I propped my head up on my hand and gestured for Britt to kiss me. She did, smiling into it, and then moved Annie to me so I could kiss her as well.

"Well, things change, don't they? Now, more often than not,  _you_ wake up before  _me._ Anyway, we have places to go, people to see, and if we want to get out of the city before you start your yelling about the traffic, I'd say 5:17 is late enough."

"That  _is_ true. So why  _did_  you let me sleep so late?"

"Because you looked like you were in a really restful sleep, and I hate waking you when you look like that.  _Plus,_ I knew that if you got in the shower with me, that we'd probably end up getting out of the house  _much_ later than if I let you sleep in."

"Good point." I pulled myself up into a sitting position and then leaned over to kiss my wife again, a longer kiss than the last. "Happy Anniversary, baby."

"Happy Anniversary to you too, Santana. It's hard to believe we've been married for a year. The time has gone by so fast."

"It really has." I sighed contentedly. "They say the first year of marriage is the hardest, you know? But even though this has been an impossibly difficult year, the  _easiest_ part of it was being married to you. It makes me feel like even when things are hard for  _us,_ which I guess is inevitable at some point, that we'll always make it through. I love you a big, ridiculous amount, Britt, and I can't wait to be married to you for another hundred years."

"A hundred and twenty five is  _really_ old." She grinned. "But if you're still here with me, then I don't care if someone is changing our diapers and spoon feeding us, I'll still be happy to be alive."

"Okay, now that you put it  _that_ way, maybe I'd like us to me married for a little less time than that."

"We didn't say ' _til death do us part_ ' in our vows, we said  _'for always.'_ That way, we can be together for a billion years. Whether it's here on this earth or someone else out in the universe, we are _forever_." She moved for a third kiss and then flicked my arm playfully. "Now  _this_ is a lot of cheese for before 5:30 in the morning, go take a shower and I'll make you some coffee so we can get out of here.

Without the usual groan that came when getting up in the morning, I slid out of bed and started getting ready to take a shower. I could feel Brittany's eyes on me, so I swung my hips playfully as I walked, making sure to bend over just a little bit more than necessary to show her that I knew she was staring and that I'd be glad to give her a show.

"Hey San?" She called as I finally started to make my way toward the bathroom and I looked back over my shoulder. "In case you didn't know, I love  _you_ a big, ridiculous amount too."

* * *

It didn't take me much time to get ready, and since we'd  _finally_ learned to pack the car the night before we left on trips, it took us even less to get out of the house. After our typically long goodbye routine with the baby at Finn and Rachel's (it was amazing and kind of scary how just one night away from your child could feel like a year), Brittany and I  _did_ manage to beat the traffic and made it out to Montauk before eleven. We were going back to the place we'd spent our first weekend as each other's wives, back to the place where I'd first realized that our love had grown into something completely different than it ever had been, to where Brittany had asked me about my dreams for the future and I wasn't able to pinpoint what it really was that I wanted. It was  _different_ this year, but it was  _good_ different, and I  _was_ a stickler for going back to where things started.

Checking into the hotel, we recognized the older woman at the counter from a year earlier, and she recognized us as the women who excitedly screamed  _Lopez-Pierce_ any time we needed anything sent to our room. When she asked about the baby (I was  _shocked_ that she remembered Britt had been pregnant, but clearly our insane cheese factor had made us memorable) the two of us went into our proud mommy mode,  _those_ parents who I always used to roll my eyes at, telling her about the wonder that was Annalise Lopez-Pierce, and  _maybe_ showing her several dozen pictures on our phones. Once we realized that we were going overboard, we laughed it off, apologized, and were wished a fabulous stay before chiding each other for our ridiculousness all the way up the stairs to our room.

Usually, the minute we walked into a hotel room, we couldn't keep our hands off each other long enough to even unpack our toothbrushes. This time was different though, after being married for a year, we'd realized so much about savoring every single moment we had together, just taking it all in. Not that we didn't want to rip each other's clothes off most of the time, trust me, we still did, but we had  _all_ night and most of the next day for that. After everything, I probably wanted, more than anything else in the world, to just lay together and talk. No therapists, no family, no friends, no baby that could interrupt at any moment (love her as we do), just Santana and Brittany. Looking at Brittany, who'd jumped up on the bed and was leaning up against the headboard, she grinned at me and put her arm out for me to go lay with her. Before getting up on the bed, I grabbed an envelope from my purse and pressed it into her free hand while resting my head on her chest and curling up beside her.

"What's this?" She asked me, looking curiously at the plain white envelope.

"I know we said we weren't going to do gifts, but the traditional first anniversary gift is supposed to be paper, which is kind of weird, and this isn't so much a gift as something that's always belonged to you, even if you didn't know about it." I spit out all in one breath, suddenly nervous about what her reaction would be to what I'd given to her.

Before Brittany made a move to open the envelope, she looked down at me, judging if she should be as nervous as I sounded. I shook my head, not even sure  _why_ I was nervous. It wasn't the first song I'd written for the woman who held me in her arms, and it certainly wouldn't be the last, but it was entirely possible that it  _would_ be the most emotionally difficult. As I watched her open the envelope and pull out the wrinkled, tear stained piece of composition paper that was inside, I thought back to the night I wrote it, the night where I'd been terrified that I'd lose her forever, that I'd have to fight that battle she'd started with me all on my own. I could almost feel the hard back of the hospital chair, see the blood that  _drip, drip, dripped_  from the bag hanging beside her, feel the intense urge I had to just go rest my head on her chest, much like I was at the moment, and just feel the rise and fall, hear her heartbeat, hear her breathing. She was my safe place, she had  _always_ been my safe place, and as she read the words on the paper, I began to sing them right along.

_I'm finding my way back to sanity again_

_Though I don't really know what_

_I'm going to do when I get there_

_Take a breath and hold on tight_

_Spin around one more time_

_And gracefully fall back to the arms of grace_

Her arms wrapped tighter around me as I let the words out, and I could hear her tears falling onto the paper, mingling with mine that had dried so long ago. We'd talked in brief about how I'd felt when I almost lost her, lost  _both of them_ , but it seemed like there was always  _so much_ to talk about and certain things got lost in the shuffle. Giving that paper to Brittany, the paper littered with cross outs, scribbles and tears, was the best way I knew how to communicate so much, not just about that night, but about all that she was to me.

_I am hanging on every word you say_

_And even if you don't want to speak tonight_

_That's alright, alright with me_

_'Cause I want nothing more than to sit_

_Outside your door and listen to you breathing_

_Is where I want to be_

Even with all of our therapy sessions, there were some things that I'd always be able to say better with music. It wasn't so much about almost losing her, but about how that moment had made me realize more than I ever had just how much there was to lose. How remembering that saved me from myself in a bar, how it gave me strength to make it through the trial, how it would be fundamental in overcoming anything else that came our way. I knew that I'd reached a point where I was capable in my own right, but sometimes it takes someone else holding your hand before you can walk on your own

_I'm looking past the shadows_

_Of my mind into the truth and_

_I'm trying to identify_

_The voices in my head_

_Oh, which one's you?_

_Let me feel one more time_

_What it feels like to feel_

_And break these calluses off of me_

_One more time_

"God, Santana." Brittany choked out after I'd finally finished, running her fingers through my hair. "Every time you sing, you manage to reduce me to a blubbering mess."

"Sorry." I shrugged sheepishly.

"Don't be. The way you can emotionally impact people with music, even people who aren't me, it's incredible. You don't just write to write, you wrench every drop out of your soul and somehow turn it into music."

"Thanks, Britt. That's kind of something I wanted to talk to you about. But we can wait until after this weekend if you want, I know I'm kind of bringing down the celebratory mood with all of this seriousness, but I wanted to give you that today."

"Tell me what you're thinking." Brittany tilted my head up towards her lips and kissed me. "Honestly honey, I don't think we need to  _celebrate_ being married for a year, don't get me wrong, I'm glad we came out here for some time alone together, but it doesn't feel like an accomplishment to make it twelve months, and it probably won't even feel like one after fifty years. We were made to last, I know that every single day, I don't need the calendar to remind me. So today, when we have the time to really sit with each other and talk, there's nothing I'd rather do right now than hear what it is you want to say."

"Okay, good." I let out a small laugh at how smart she was about things. "Because I've been trying to figure this out, and I didn't really want to wait any longer to talk about it."

"You're such a goof, just tell me already, now I'm dying to know what this big, major, serious, kill the mood thing that you have to tell me is"

"I didn't  _say_ that." I laughed louder at that, my wife had such a way of making me feel more confident by gently showing me how unnecessary (and slightly ridiculous) my weird insecurities were. "I've just been talking about the future a lot with Dr. Collins, and you know, thinking about everything my life had been up until this point. I think that I have a real story to tell, you know?"

"I do know."

"It's always been hard for me, because I felt like there was no one I could relate to, no one who really understood the way I felt. I was so alone sometimes with my thoughts, not even just with what happened to me, but back in high school when I didn't know how to deal with my feelings. It's such an unbearable, scary feeling. And I'm not saying this to insult you Britt, because you  _get_ me way more than anyone else." She nodded and squeezed my arm, letting me know that she understood what I was trying to say. "But I feel like I owe it to myself, and to other people like me, people who feel insecure about themselves, or who drink too much, or have had something bad happened to them because of who they are, to tell my story. Not everyone has a  _you_ to help them, and  _that_ must be even worse to not only  _feel_ alone, but to  _be_ alone. I know how lucky I am to have you in my life, but there are so many people who aren't that lucky.. Maybe hearing what I have to say will keep them from feeling so alone."

Brittany was silent and I started to fidget in her arms, waiting for her response. Without saying another word, she climbed over me so she was straddling my lap and kissed me until I couldn't breathe. When she pulled away, she looked at me with her eyes full of love and smiled. Neither of us said anything for several minutes and I wasn't sure what she was thinking.

"That is probably the second best idea you've ever had."

"Second best?" I raised an eyebrow.

"Well, agreeing to marry me kind of beats that, as amazing as it is."

"Okay, true." I wrapped my arms around her neck and just soaked in everything about the beautiful woman who made everything so much easier.

"Do you know how you want to go about it?"

"I'm not even sure how it would work, I just know that the only way I can really think to express the way I feel about everything is through music. This might sound like something Rachel would say, but I feel like I could reach people on a different level that way. I mean, maybe there's a way to find other people who have stories too, and it could be like, a  _thing_ , does that make  _any_ sense?"

"It totally does." She grinned. "Kind of like a musical  _Chicken Soup for the Soul_ project."

"Oh my God, please don't call it that Britt, that sounds so lame!"

"It's anything but lame." She told me seriously. "You could really connect with so many people. Make their lives better."

"I know, and no matter how it happens, that's all I want to accomplish. I always thought what I wanted was to be up on stage at some big amphitheater with a hundred thousand fans screaming for me. But even now that I can sing again, there are only two fans who matter to me, and they both get to hear me sing for free. I don't want to go on a crazy world tour or worry about singing the music that the public wants me to sing. I want to be here in New York, going to bed with you every night, being home with Annie, being able to have another baby when we're ready and not worrying about some media higher up telling me it's the wrong time. I'll figure out how I can make my new dream fit with all of that, how I can really use my talent for something that  _matters_ , something that's so personal to me, and thinking about that makes me so much happier than all the screaming fans in the world.

"Santana Lopez-Pierce, I don't know how you  _still_  manage to find things to say that make me love you even more."

It wasn't long before the sweet kisses Brittany was giving me turned into something more. Her hands moved to undo the buttons on my shirt, and it took  _far_ longer than it should have, since I couldn't stop distracting her with my own touches. Finally, she got so frustrated that she pulled the shirt up over my head. She became almost possessed by her desire, and not just the desire she felt for my body, but the constant desire she felt to let me know just how much she loved me. I felt like she was kissing me forever, like she didn't want to miss a single centimeter of skin, and although my position against the headboard didn't allow for much movement on my part, I managed to kiss as much of  _her_ body as it would allow me. Hours or seconds later, I couldn't be sure, I was existing in a haze of emotion and arousal, she slowly kissed and nipped at the skin just above the waistband of my jeans and my hands wrapped in her hair of their own accord.

"Britt, please." I whined and she looked up at me, eyes dark.

"We have all the time in the world, Santana." She promised her voice thick. My wife didn't mean just for this, she meant for  _everything_ , and I smiled dreamily.

She continued to work me up, occasionally dipping her hand into my jeans before pulling it back out again. Then she paused all together and stripped out of her own clothes before  _finally_ (and still excruciatingly slowly) removing what separated me from what I wanted. When she knew I couldn't take it anymore, when she knew I was writhing just from her looks, she  _finally_ stopped kissing the bare inside of my thighs and moved upward, using her strong hands to still my hips from the bucking that  _I_ was long past trying to control. Her eyes were locked on mine as she brought me higher and higher, honestly taking me somewhere I'd  _never_ been before. I refused to let my eyes roll back, as much as they tried, the sight of her between my legs was something I  _never_ wanted to miss, and I didn't close them until I finally came hard, one of her hands reaching up to keep me from slamming my head against the headboard.

"Wow. I don't know how you  _still_ manage to do things like  _that_  to make me love you even more." I panted, mirroring her words from earlier as she crawled back up so her whole body was on top of mine. "I should tell you my life dreams every day."

"I'm so happy to hear you dream again. It means the world to me."

* * *

Long after I'd managed to recover and take care of Brittany, after we managed to go  _another_ two rounds, we somehow made it to dinner. Sitting in a restaurant that overlooked the water, I had a ridiculous grin on my face staring at my beautiful wife. Despite the fact that we'd laid in bed together for an hour after we'd finished ravishing each other, and we'd taken a long shower, her face still had a hint of flush, and I leaned over the breadbasket to kiss her cheeks. It was strange, I hadn't been shy showing her public affection in years, but I guess a part of me that I hadn't realized still caused me to hold my breath every time. That night though, a year into our marriage, I didn't hold my breath, I didn't feel anything holding me back from interacting with her in the ways I'd always hoped for. Maybe it was the fact that Ryan Davis was behind bars, that my every waking thought wasn't about him finding a way to hurt her, or maybe it was just that I'd finally grown into myself, I couldn't be sure. All I knew was that it felt so good, and I couldn't believe it had taken me that long to get where I was.

"You have your thinking face on again." Britt smiled, holding out her fork for me so I could taste her salmon. "What's going on in there?"

"I'm just thinking that there are a lot of things I'm not so scared of anymore. That's a really good feeling."

"Yeah." She said, getting lost in her own thoughts for a moment. "It really is,"


	71. How Loved She Truly Is

It came as no surprise to me that just after two in the morning on June 17th, Brittany and I found ourselves in Annie's room, staring at our little girl as she lie sound asleep in the music note printed sleep sack that Rachel had found and just  _had_ to buy for her. The ocean sounds that came from her Sleep Sheep filled the room, and neither of us spoke, we were just content to silently watch her breathe, Brittany's hand resting over mine on the edge of the crib. When the clock read 2:17, I snapped a picture of her, knowing that we'd do the same thing every year of her childhood, and would probably try to get her on the phone at that time every year of her adulthood. At 2:17 on June 17, 2019, my life changed forever, in the best way possible, and there would never be a year that went by where I wouldn't want to remember why. She'd survived, our beautiful, perfect child, against the odds, and my heart was full with so much warmth thinking about how her breaths sounded so different now, so  _strong_ compared to the first ones she'd taken.

"Should we wake her up?" Brittany whispered, her head falling to rest on the top of mine as we both remembered the struggle it had been to get her into the world.

"I want to. Is that crazy?"

"Maybe, I don't know. I think we should anyway."

"Okay." I smiled, running my thumb up and down the side of Annie's face and echoed the words I'd said to her so many days earlier. "Open your eyes, baby girl."

Slowly, Annie blinked her eyes open and looked between the two of us, probably trying to figure out  _why_ her mothers felt the need to wake her up in the middle of the night, why we needed to interrupt whatever dreams she was having. She yawned, and brought her hand up to shield her eyes from the low light of the stars projected on the ceiling. My heart clenched watching her, it always did, and I felt Brittany's hand squeeze around my fingers as she started to sing and I quickly joined her.

_Happy Birthday to you. Happy Birthday to you. Happy birthday Annalise. Happy Birthday to you._

_"Feliz cumpleaños, mija. Qué alegría que estas aqui."_ I leaned into the crib and kissed her between her sleepy little eyes.

"Sorry we woke you up sweetheart." Brittany told her softly. "But we just wanted to tell you how much we love you, and to wish you the happiest of birthdays in the whole world."

We didn't tear our eyes away from her as she sleepily mumbled our names before drifting back off to sleep, her fist still balled up against her cheek, just like it had been on the day she was born. I hadn't realized that there were tears in my eyes until I felt the wetness on my cheek, and I reached up to brush them away. When I looked at Brittany, I noticed the same thing, and swiped my thumb over her cheek, erasing the droplets.

"I'm not even sure why I am crying." Britt said softly, bringing her hand up over mine on her face. "I'm so happy that she's made it to this point, but is it normal to feel a little sad that she's growing up so fast?"

"Yes." I reassured her. "Because I feel it too. But she's ours, no matter what, even when she's in her horrible teenage years and we want to tape her mouth shut and lock her in her bedroom, I think we'll still sneak in her room and stare at her at night. She's our one perfect thing, and as much as I'm sad about the day she won't fit in our arms anymore, the day she won't let us kiss her in front of people, the day our names are no longer said with a reverent giggle, but a groan, I'm  _still_ so excited to see the beautiful life that's ahead for her."

"Yeah, it  _will_ be amazing to see what she grows up to be. I have a feeling she's going to take  _everyone's_ expectations and completely turn them upside down."

"That's our Annie." I laughed. "She  _does_  have a flair for doing the unexpected."

I wrapped my arms fully around Britt, and we stood there for a while longer. We both knew we should sleep, both knew we had a house full of company coming the next day and a lot to do to prepare for it, but none of that seemed as important at staring at Annie, none of it seemed as important as silently celebrating the fact that this beautiful child who almost never took her first breath was in front of us, thriving. My hand found it's way to the waistband of Brittany's sweatpants, which rested just on top of her scar, and I traced my fingers across the slightly raised skin there.

"Happy baby's birthday to you too, Mama." I said softly and let another smile light up my face. "Thanks for giving me the greatest gift in the world."

"And happy baby's birthday to you, Mamí." She kissed my forehead and sighed against my skin. "Thanks for hanging on to us when we needed you the most."

* * *

We all slept in (and by slept in, I obviously mean until just after six) the next morning, given the fact that we'd been up throughout the night. Most of our morning was spent running around, picking up last minute things for the party, decorating the apartment, baking a fantastic two tier pink and white cake for our guests, and a matching cupcake for Annie to have all to herself. By the time everything was done, we had only an hour before people started to arrive (and knowing  _everyone_ in our lives, they  _never_ waited until the designated time to show up). Brittany and I quickly got ourselves showered and ready while Annie went down for her mid-day nap. When the baby finally woke up, just as smiley as she always was, Britt dressed her in a pink dress that matched the decorations and I combed her hair into tiny pigtails before securing a tiara on her head.

"You look like such a big girl, Annie!" I cooed, tickling her under her chin and smiling at Brittany who was standing beside us with the video camera. Before either of us could say anything else, the doorbell rang and I laughed while rolling my eyes. "Looks like everyone else is just as excited for your big day as we are."

"Come on, baby girl, let's get ready for the fun to begin." Brittany flipped off the camera and I slid the baby into her arms.

As I walked through the living room, I did one last visual once over of the apartment. Once again, I couldn't help but smile at the  _Happy 1st Birthday Annie_ banner that hung over the table and the  _three dozen_ balloons that filled up our little apartment. Okay, so maybe we'd gone a  _little_  overboard with the decorating, but considering we lived in New York, and there were  _a lot_  of people who spent as much on birthday parties as a  _wedding_ would cost back in Lima, I'd say we were  _actually_ pretty low key. With Brittany just a few steps behind me, ready to show off her miniature, I swung up in the door and was not surprised in the least that Finn and Rachel were the first to arrive. In his arms, Finn held an elaborately wrapped gift that was more than twice Annie's size and both he and Rachel had gigantic grins on their faces.

"I would have bet all of the money in the world that you two would be the first to get here." I smirked.

"I'm not even going to deny that we raced to get here early." Rachel laughed. "Maribel Lopez, the baby hog, will be here, and I need my Annie fix before that."

"That's true, my mother  _does_ need to learn how to share her."

"You want to go see Aunt Rachel?" Brittany kissed the baby before handing her off to her godmother.

"Happy Birthday, sweet girl." Rachel hummed and Finn leaned down, arms still full, to kiss her cheeks.

Finn dropped the ridiculously large gift by the door and rested his hand on the small of Rachel's back as the two of them walked over the the couch together, playfully teasing the baby. I stood back with Brittany, watching for a moment as Finn shifted the throw pillows on the couch for his wife before they sat together and he wrapped his arm around her, sharing Annie's attention. They looked at her so lovingly, and then I caught a gaze pass between the two of them and I felt a gigantic grin crack my face.

"You two are  _so_ obvious." I laughed, catching the twinkle in Brittany's eye that told me she'd figured it out too.

"What are you talking about?" Rachel tried to protest, but was betrayed by both her own face and the glance that Finn sent my way.

"You do realize you're talking to Santana, right Rach? I  _knew_ she'd see right through us. She's really not kidding when she says she has a Mexican Third Eye."

"You can't hide from the eye." I tapped my forehead and raised my eyebrow at Rachel, she knew better than  _anyone_ else. "I don't know why any of you even bother to try."

"I  _don't_ have magical telepathic powers, and even I could tell!" Brittany chirped excitedly. "Finn, you're looking at Rachel like she's made out of glass, the same way Santana looked at me for half of last year."

"Okay, caught." Finn couldn't keep the gigantic smile off of his face, and I found myself almost giddy at the thought. "We haven't told anyone else yet, though. Santana, we wanted to tell you first, since you're partially responsible for this."

"Wanky!" I interrupted and Finn flicked my arm playfully.

"We were going to wait until after Annie's party, so we didn't steal her thunder." Finn continued, rolling his eyes at my exclamation. "But yeah, Rachel's pregnant."

"Oh my God, congratulations!" Brittany yelped, and I couldn't control my own actions as I dragged her towards our friends for a group hug. A group hug, I was  _actually_ the one who'd initiated a group hug, and I didn't even feel the desire to internally make fun of myself. I was  _that_ excited for them.

"Annie, do you hear that?" I squeezed my daughter's hand as Rachel just smiled down at her, silent. "Aunt Rachel and Uncle Finn are going to give you a new friend,  _and_ for some reason, your normally  _very_ loud godmother is  _not_ speaking."

"Sorry." Rachel didn't tear her eyes away from Annie as she spoke, her eyes misty. "It just feels really, really real, sitting here with Annie and  _telling_ someone. I think I'm probably still a little shocked."

"Rach." I joked, trying to calm her nerves. "Do you need me to sing you a song, make you feel better?"

At that, she cracked up and I turned to hug Brittany close to me, loving the idea that my best friends would have a kid so close in age to ours. As a kid, I had this horrific fear of growing up, but the older I got, the more exciting it became. Even a year earlier, none of us were even as close to as mature as we were now, and the maturity was  _so_ much better. My blissful state in Brittany's arms didn't last long, since  _obviously_ no one else was going to wait until 3:00 to start arriving. Our parents and Liz were next, having driven over from their hotel together (and my mom, of course, immediately stole her granddaughter from Rachel) followed by Kurt and Blaine with Tina and Mercedes (who seriously were  _pretty_ awesome for coming all the way to New York for a one-year-old's party with no alcohol), Quinn and her husband, Rosa and Benny and finally, fresh from their drive from Akron, all four of the Evans followed. I stood back for a moment, taking it all in, taking in the noise, the hugging, just the ridiculous amount of  _love_ in the room. It was my mother-in-law who finally joined me in the kitchen archway, placing her arm on my shoulder.

"I remember the days you would have fled to your bedroom and locked the door with this kind of display of emotion." Susan laughed softly.

"It wasn't so long ago." I smiled. "Thanks Susan."

"For what?"

"For always believing in me, for not telling Britt to run far, far away because I was bad news. She, and now Annie, are the only ones who I've really wanted to be better for, and I'm glad you gave me the chance to do that. If it hadn't been for that, I'd probably still be a scared little girl, so completely unhappy with myself."

"Santana, I've watched you grow up in the most incredible ways. I watched you come into your own and accept how much you loved my daughter, I watched you break your own heart after you went to Kentucky because you knew how hard it all was for Brittany. And now, just in a  _year_ I've watched you become this incredible wife, this incredible mother, and I watched you sit in a room and do the hardest thing in the world with your head held high. I'm so proud to call you my daughter-in-law, and the reason I never thought you should stay away from Brittany is because I  _knew_ this woman was inside of you, just buried under a lot of fear and a pretty bad attitude."

I didn't have words to respond to Susan, so instead, I just wrapped my arms around her. My own mom and I had been through a lot, but my relationship with my mother-in-law was something entirely different. It was one of the many things that made me proud to have the  _Pierce_ in my name, that ability to see the good hidden under the bad. I loved that Susan and Stephen never gave up on me, never second guessed my ability to love their daughter, to mother their granddaughter. When I felt another set of arms around me and saw who they were attached to, I smiled and laced my fingers with Brittany's.

"C'mon San, you need to tell everyone about the video messages you want them to record for Annie. My dad said he'd deal with the camera so we can enjoy the party." Britt untangled me from her mom's embrace, and I gave Susan one last grateful smile.

Coming back into the living room, I looked over everyone again, trying to keep myself from getting lost in all of the amazing emotions that were coursing through my body. It was almost impossible when I looked over at Annie, sitting on Penny's lap while my mother tickled her feet. Susan kicked Liz out of her seat on the other side of Penny, and I really thought the site of my daughter with all three of her grandmothers, the perfect testament to the strange patchwork family she was a part of, was going to be too much for me. What I would have once thought was a completely absurd possibility had become a reality, and it was more beautiful than I ever would have imagined. Sensing my emotional struggle, Brittany pressed a kiss just behind my ear and squeezed my arm, reassuring me that it was  _okay_ to become overwhelmed by my feelings on such a big day.

"Hey everybody." I started, feeling kind of shy for some inexplicable reason. "I don't know, am I supposed to thank you all for coming? I'm not, like giving a toast or anything, I'm just-"

"Here, wait, I'll start." Brittany smiled and reached down to take Annie from Penny's arms. "Maybe we  _should_  kind of give some kind of speech or something? So yeah, we  _do_ want to thank you all for coming, because seriously, everyone who is in this room right now means more to the three of us than you'll ever know. I'm going to make this really short, but you obviously know that this past year has been a whirlwind for us, and now, we're celebrating the first year of life for the best possible thing that could have  _ever_ happened to us."

"I think you can  _all_ agree that having Annie in your lives-" I stopped to tap her nose, causing her giggles to escape. "Has made it just a little bit better. So I guess, what we're saying is thank you."

"Thank you for loving her, for supporting us, and for being a part of this life we've created. There's something we'd like from all of you, and I think Santana can say it better than I can." She wrapped her free arm around my waist and nodded her encouragement.

"Throughout our daughter's life, she's going to have a lot of questions, questions that we'll try to explain to the best of our ability, but the one thing we  _never_ want her to question is how loved she truly is. I'm sure you're all going to make fun of me for how cheesy this is." I gave Kurt a playful glare, knowing he would probably be the first. "But we want all of you to record a message to Annie, telling her as much, that we'll give to her on her eighteenth birthday."

"You totally stole that from  _Friends._ " Blaine chided.

"Shut it, Uncle Warbler. Yes, maybe I  _did_ get the idea from there, from the episode where I used to  _totally_ make fun of the idea of having a huge party for a kid who wouldn't even remember anything. But now that I'm a mother, now that I've seen so many big moments happen in Annie's short life, I think it's important to celebrate every single one." I tried my hardest not to look at Rachel and Finn, knowing one glance from me would threaten to give away their secret, and instead looked over at Stephen who was videotaping our impromptu speech. "Even if she won't remember things, I'm  _sure_ her Poppy will have so many of them on film, and one day, she'll be able to look back and see that even before she knew what it meant, she had so many people who already loved her so much."

I felt the heat rise in my cheeks from speaking so candidly about my feelings, and I turned to Brittany and Annie, wrapping them both in a hug that would hide my reddening face. Brittany was smiling against my hair, I could  _feel_ it, and before I showed my face again, I kissed her softly on the lips and kissed Annie's forehead.

"And I'm  _sure_ Aunt Rachel has prepared some kind of musical number, so do me a favor and make sure we get it on tape." I joked. "I  _do_ actually want Annie to remember that."

"Whoa." Kurt chuckled. "Get your coats, everyone, because I think it's possible that hell has just frozen over."

Even I couldn't contain my laughter at the truth behind Kurt's words as I pretended to put on my best bitch face. Brittany handed off the baby to Liz and Stacey Evans, who were standing off in the corner chatting with each other, and Stacey gave me a warm smile. My heart skipped a little bit at that, since I was  _still_ a little nervous around Sam's family, and I reached out to squeeze her hand, a silent  _thank you for not hating me._ Brittany watched contently, so grateful for how everything turned out, and then grabbed my hand to lead me into the kitchen so we could start putting food out. While the two of us stood side by side, working in sync to unwrap trays of sandwiches and take lids off of potato salad and coleslaw, Mercedes and Tina appeared in the doorway.

"Do you two need any help?" Mercedes asked.

"No, I don't think so." Brittany looked to me for confirmation and I shook my head. "Seriously, you guys coming was more than enough. We so appreciate you coming all the way to New York for Annie's party."

"We know it's not the big Hollywood parties you're used to, 'Cedes, or the insane post-tour events I'm sure Mike takes you to, Tina, but it really means a lot to us that you thought this was important."

"Well, I, for one, have  _always_ been Team Brittana." Tina shook her head, caught up in the memories of our younger selves. "Why do you think I always meddled so much in your business?"

"Oh, so  _that's_ your reasoning?" I laughed.

"Okay, I loved the gossip too, but you two were always the couple that made the  _most_ sense."

"And we're so glad to have you both back in our lives, so we'll be here for any party you invite us to." Mercedes promised. "And also, Santana, I wanted to sit down and talk to you before I went back, see if there's anything  _I_ could do to help you with your big plans."

"That would be great." I felt the butterflies in my stomach that I had started getting every time I thought about the future, the  _best_ kind of butterflies. "We'll grab lunch on Monday, you'd be great to bounce ideas off of."

"Well." Quinn said, the next to appear in the kitchen. "Mr. Schu would be  _so_ proud of everyone helping each other out."

"Yeah." Brittany agreed. "And he'd probably break into  _another_ version of  _Don't Stop Believing._ "

Our three friends ended up helping us to carry the platters out to the folding tables we'd set up in the living room and Brittany and I dragged Annie's highchair out so she could sit with everyone else. Rosa had ended up with the baby in her arms, and carefully strapped her into the chair, speaking to her quietly in Spanish as she did so. Stephen finished up filming Stevie and Stacey's joint message to Annie, and everyone slowly made their way to the table. Britt sat beside Annie, feeding her applesauce while I alternated between eating myself and sticking forkfuls of potato salad into my wife's mouth. Everyone talked over each other animately, and I didn't say much, instead wanting to soak up the happiness of everyone around me. It was another one of those days where I felt so  _normal_ , and I loved every moment of it.

After everyone was finished eating and we'd cleared off the table, Britt and I went back in the kitchen to bring out the cake. While Brittany set the big cake on the table, my mother secured  _another_ first birthday bib around Annie's neck and I adjusted her tiara while placing the cupcake down in front of her. Despite having never even seen one, Annie shrieked happily, and everyone in the room laughed, knowing how much  _Brittany_ loved anything sweet. Stephen turned the video camera back on and my dad had the still camera, snapping dozens of pictures of us getting the baby ready. Britt and I each took one of the baby's hands to keep her away from the flame as I lit a glittery number one candle in front of her. Her eyes lit up at the flickering, and as everyone sang, she couldn't stop laughing. Before we blew out the candle for her, Brittany and I moved closer to our daughter, kissing her cheeks, posing for pictures with the biggest smiles on our faces, before we extinguished the flame and let go of Annie's hands so she could attack the cupcake in front of her.

* * *

After Annie managed to cover herself in frosting and Britt and I took turns actually  _feeding_ her bites of the cupcake she destroyed, we opened gifts and everyone slowly began to leave. Before they left, we made arrangements with the Evans for them to come over in the morning, so they could spend much needed time with the baby, without the chaos of everyone else around, and we hugged each of them in turn, so glad they'd driven all the way to New York to spend just one night. I knew it was still difficult for all of them, especially Penny, but she wanted so desperately to be a part of Annie's life, that she worked hard to suppress her feelings. When everyone else had gone, my parents and the Pierces remained, Annie sleeping on my dad's chest on the couch. Brittany and I curled up together in our oversized chair and my mom smiled over at us.

"You two did such a great job today." Mamí announced, and the others nodded in agreement. "It really was a beautiful party."

"Thanks, Mamí. I'm sure they'll only get bigger every year."

"Oh, don't I know it." She exchanged a glance with Susan who smiled in her direction. "But really, everything you've both done in the past year has been incredible. It's hard to believe that it's only been a year since we were all sitting for days on end in a hospital waiting room."

"We've come really far." Brittany looked into my eyes and I stopped running my fingers through her hair to place a soft kiss on her forehead. It was true, in every way possible. Physically, emotionally, spiritually, we were in such a better place. "You know, we really couldn't have done it without your support."

I watched Brittany have a silent exchange with my mother and I knew they were both thinking about the conversation they'd had back in the hospital, the conversation that had repaired the damage that  _another_ conversation in the hospital had caused. Both of their daughter's survived, Mamí's more than once, and I glanced over at my father rubbing circle's on Annie's back, and I knew there was nothing greater in the world than small miracles.

"Congratulations to you both." Stephen said. "Celebrating your daughter's birth with  _always_ be a big accomplishment, and I think I speak for all of us when I say that we're so impressed with you."

"Absolutely." My father affirmed in a whisper, so as not to wake the baby. "The men around here don't speak many words, we have too many women shouting over us, but I can't wait to celebrate so many more special days with this family."

* * *

Once Annie woke up from the late nap she had, our families took their leave too. The three of us lay on the couch for a while, just spending the rest of Annalise's birthday quietly together. Despite her late nap, all of the excitement still had the baby exhausted, so we put her in the tub, washing the frosting out of her hair and letting her splash away. After Brittany fed her (weaning her was  _well_ underway, but she  _was_ still being breastfed before bed) we all sat together in her room, singing one last  _Happy Birthday_ and putting her down for the night. Together, Britt and I went into our room and changed out of our party clothes and into pajamas, wanting to be our natural selves as we recorded the final messages on Annie's tape. I held the camera for Britt first, smiling to myself as she talked about what she remembered about the night our daughter was born, about how she'd turned her Mamí every sweeter (I tried to roll my eyes, but couldn't control my grin), how she couldn't wait to see if she'd become an astronaut, a veterinarian, a dancer, or something completely different. When she finished, I switched the camera off and traded places with her, pulling my hair up before sitting down on our bed and taking a deep breath.

"To my sweet, beautiful Annie on your eighteenth birthday. By now, you've heard a lot of stories, I'm sure you know how things were during the first year in my life, I'm sure you know the circumstances of how you came to be. The first time I knew how much I loved you was the day I sat in the doctor's office, holding your Mama's hand as I listened to your heartbeat, and I've loved you more and more every day since. But I don't think I knew that you were truly  _mine_ until I watched you, this impossibly tiny little thing, open your eyes for the first time. You saved me in so many more ways than you'll ever understand, and every single day for the rest of your life, I will be grateful to you for that. You taught me how to smile easily again, you taught me what it meant to be a mother, and you taught me how to love in a way I never had before. I don't know who you are, as you watch this video this day in the distant future, I don't know what kind of dreams you're dreaming, or if you've already met the person who stole your heart the way Mama stole mine. But what I  _do_ know is that every single person whose messages you've now listened to loves you so much. When Mama was pregnant with you, your  _abuela_ told me that there were things I'd never understand until I was a mother myself. It's true, Annie, and I'll tell you the same thing some day, when you meet the man or woman who you'll spend the rest of your life with." Tears were streaming down my face by that point, but I didn't brush them away, I just continued to talk to the woman my daughter would become. "I don't know if you'll have sisters or brothers by the time you see this, I can't tell the future, and while I'll love you all just as strongly, know that I loved you  _first,_ both for who you are and who you taught me to be. You're my little burst of sunshine, baby girl, and don't you ever forget that.  _Te amo con todo mi corazon._ "

I let myself breathe for a minute, smiling at Brittany and the camera, thinking about the life Annie would lead, the life we would all lead together, and the woman my young daughter had helped  _me_ to become. I didn't want to end the tape alone, I wanted it to end with both of her moms, both of the woman who would always love her most, how would give their own lives for her.

"Come here, Britt, put the camera on the dresser." I told her, and she did, coming to sit beside me on the bed.

"Hey Annie." She waved. "I'm back."

"This is it, the end of our tape to you. The two of us will always love you more than anyone else in the world.  _Felices dieciocho, mija."_

"Happy eighteenth birthday, sweetheart."

"We love you!" The two of us called out at the same time, blowing kisses to the camera.

Brittany got up and turned off the camera before coming back to the bed and falling into my open arms. We just sat there for a long time, holding each other, reflecting on everything that had led us to the point we were at. It was amazing, that Annie had survived against the odds, that our relationship had survived against all odds, and I sent a silent  _thank you_ out to the universe for giving me everything I'd ever wanted. Brittany and I had found our way back to each other, I'd found my way back to myself, and most importantly, together, we were finding our way into the future. As we lay back on our bed, still locked in an embrace, whispering  _I love you's_ back and forth to each other, I knew that even with whatever uncertainty lied ahead, in that very moment, I had everything I could ever ask for.

 


End file.
